2t-cu 


Nuggets  of  wit  from  the  world’s  richest  mines. 

R.  S.  Rhodes. 

Chicago,  June  ist,  1898, 


96: 


P:'? 


BY  H.  delay. 


OPPOSITE  PAGE 


Frontispiece 

A Business  with  Her 21 

Chauncey  M.  Depew 20 

He  Couldn’t  Go  the  Grass 24 

She  Obtained  a Seat 26 

Too  High-Toned  Hired  Hen 30 

Old  Man’s  Banking  Experience 32 

A Strike  of  Other  Days 39 

Ripe  Limburger 43 

“ She  Told  Me  to  Try  ’Em  First  on  the  Boarders”. . 48 

A Boston  Child’s  Wisdom 50 

The  Earth 52 

Something  Appropriate 56 

The  Price  of  Raisins 59 

When  the  Shingle  Is  Hot 63 

The  Rebel  Yell 66 

Mark  Twain  on  Beecher 73 

“ It  Cost  Pa  $10,000.  76 

The  Puppy  Was  Hungry 78 

Begorra  ! Yis,  Tache  the  B’y  to  Spake  Airish 85 

While  There’s  Life  There’s  Hope 86 

Another  Victim  Oi  Overwork 93 

“ I’d  Give  My  Clothes  for  His  Teeth.” 95 

[16] 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


CONTINUED. 

OPPOSITE  PAGE 

The  Doctor’s  Profanity 103 

The  Cyclone  Swooped  Down 105 

Good  Reason  for  Walking  So  Far iii 

Never  Too  Old  to  Learn 1 1 5 

A Far-Reaching  Multitude  of  Dogs ' 117 

In  Perfect  Bliss  126 

‘ ‘ And  Her  Mourning  Isn’t  Ready.  ” 134 

Taught  That  Frog  to  Jump 139 

He  Belched  Out  a Double  Handful  of  Shot 145 

Told  in  Confidence 146 

He  Helped  Himself  to  Some  Jam 148 

The  Meddlesome  Ducks 155 

Bro.  Gardner 160 

“But  Oh,  I’m  Not  a Fish-Woman!” 168 

“ Is  the  Wawho- Wang- Wang  Happy  U 182 

“ Where  Did  I Leave  My  Shirt  T 187 

The  Dignity  of  Office 198 

“How  Is  It  that  Milo  Makes  All  His  Venuses  With- 
out Arms  U 206 

“ He  Is  Unsociable.” 209 

It  Occurred  to  Him  to  Look  at  the  Clothes-Line. . . .222 

Made  a Profit 228 

What  Their  Bible  Contained 232 

“That  Lying  Old  Thing!” 237 

Down  with  the  Tyrants  ! 248 

It  Was  an  Eye-Tooth  That  Bothered  Him 252 

Unfortunate 254 

‘ ‘ I Practice  Entirely  by  Ear. ” 258 

[17] 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


CONTINUED, 

OPPOSITE  PAGE 

Worried  Over  Labor  Troubles 270 

A Primary  Lesson 272 

“ I Dearly  Love  to  Be  a Bachelor.” 278 

It  Could  Go  Out 288 

She  Had  Her  Revenge 295 

“Only  Look  Within  My  Eyes.” 301 

“ I Met  Her  on  West  Hampton  Beach.” 310 

A Good  Reason 321 

Four-Ply  Love 328 

Enoch  Telephoned  His  Family  Physician 332 

Why  He  Wanted  the  Boot 337 

“I  Have  Only  Eaten  a Couple  of  Very  Distant  Rela- 
tives.”   341 

It  Made  a Difference 348 

How  He  Missed  It 358 

A Vulgar  Combination 368 

A Long,  Bony  Arm  Was  Thrust  Into  De  Makeshift’s 

Cell 371 

The  Girl  with  the  Muslin  Gown 378 

A New  Material  for  Bonnets 381 

Getting  at  the  Pass-Word 387 

“Tink  I’d  Keep  Walybles  in  the  Entry.?” 389 

The  Chemistry  of  Food  391 

She  Forgot  that  Dress-Coats  Were  Outre 392 

Business  Is  Business 395 

The  Sweet  Girl  Graduate 397 

Bill  Nye  Condoles  with  Cleveland 401 

Grover  Cleveland..  401 

[18] 


\ 


A BUSINESS  WITH  HER. 


P.  24, 


CHAUNCEY  M.  DEPEW’S  STORY. 

ONE  WHICH  HE  WON’T  TELL  THE  NEXT  TIME  HE  GOES 
TO  CHICAGO. 


Chicagoan  for  a, second  and 
Heaven.’  ” 


‘ ‘ There  was  once  a prom- 
inent man  in  Chicago  who, 
like  all  others  out  there,  had 
a very  exalted  opinion  of  his 
town.  He  died,  and  when 
he  reached  his  eternal  home 
he  looked  about  him  with 
much  surprise  and  said  to 
the  attendant,  who  had  just 
opened  the  gate  for  him: 
‘ Really,  this  does  great 
credit  to  Chicago.  I ex- 
pected some  change  in 
Heaven.’ 

‘ ‘ The  attendant  eyed  the 
then  observed:  ‘This  isn’t 


[21] 


22 


THE  WORTHS 


DEPEW’S.  EXPERIENCE  IN  OFFICE-SEEKING. 

Chauncey  M.  Depew  says  that  he  has  had  personal 
experience  in  seeking  office — not  for  himself,  however, 
but  for  others — from  every  Republican  President.  He 
said  that  Mr.  Lincoln  would  always  listen  attentively  to 
what  he  had  to  say,  and  then  tell  a funny  story.  On  his 
way  back  to  the  hotel  he  would  think  over  the  story,  and 
finally  see  that  it  landed  his  candidate  way  out  of  sight. 

Gen.  Grant  always  received  an  application  for  office  as 
toasts  to- the  memory  of  Washington  are  drunk — stand- 
ing and  in  silence. 

President  Hayes  listened  for  a while,  then  broke  out 
into  lamentations  that  the  attention  of  the  President  of 
the  United  States  should  be  diverted  from  the  great  affairs 
of  state  to  distribute  patronage.  Then  he  would  make 
a memorandum  in  a little  red  book  which  was  to  remind 
him  not  to  do  it. 

Gen.  Garfield  would  put  his  arm  around  your  neck, 
tell  you  how  much  he  loved  you,  and  then  forget  what 
you  had  asked  of  him. 

President  Arthur  would  listen  with  polite  attention  to 
all  you  had  to  say;  then  he  would  refer  you  to  some  man 
in  New  York  whom  you  were  never  able  to  find. 

President  Harrison  would  sink  down  into  his  chair  till 
you  had  presented  the  claims  of  your  candidate,  and  then 
change  the  subject. 

Of  President  McKinley’s  peculiarities  in  this  respect  I 
am  not  prepared  to  speak  from  personal  experience. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


23 


MR.  IRVING’S  STORY. 

On  one  occasion,  shortly  after  Queen  Victoria’s  visit  to 
her  castle  at  Balmoral,  Mr.  Irving,  who  was  traveling 
through  the  country,  met  an  old  Scotch  woman,  with 
whom  he  spoke  of  her  Majesty. 

“The  Queen’s  a good  woman,”  he  said. 

“I  suppose  she’s  gude  enough,  but  there  are  things  I- 
cannabear.  ” 

“What  do  you  mean.?”  asked  Mr.  Irving. 

“Well ! I think  there  are  things  that  even  the  Queen 
has  no  recht  to  do.  For  one  thing,  she  goes  rowing  on 
the  lak  on  Soonday;  and  it ’s  not  a Chreestian  thing  to 
do  !” 

“But,  you  know,  the  Bible  tells  us ” 

“I  knaw,”  she  interrupted  angrily.  “I  ’ve  read  the 
Bible  since  I was  so  high,  an’  I knaw  ev’ry  word  in ’t.  I 
knaw  aboot  the  Soonday  fishing  and  a’  the  other  things 
the  good  Lord  did;  but  I want  ye  to  knaw,  too,  that  I 
don’t  think  any  the  more,  e’en  of  Him,  for  a-doin’  it.” 


A SOFT  ANSWER  TURNS  AWAY  WRATH. 

Charles  Burleigh,  in  the  midst  of  a political  speech, 
was  struck  full  in  the  face  by  a rotten  egg.  Pausing  to 
wipe  away  the  contents  of  the  missile,  he  said  calmly : 
“ I have  always  contended  that  my  opponents’  arguments 
were  very  unsound.”  The  crowd  roared,  and  he  was  no 
longer  molested. 


U THE  WORLDS  B • 

ffl.  ©WAIN’S  Diplomacy. 

At  a recent  dinner  party  the  subject  of  eternal 
hfe  and  future  punishment  came  up  for  a lengthy 
discussion,  in  which  Mark  Twain  took  no  part.  A 
lady  near  him  turned  suddenly  toward  him,  and 
• exclaimed : 

“Why  do  you  not  say  anything?  I want  your 
opinion?” 

Twain  rephed  gravely:  “Madame,  you  must  ex- 
cuse me.  I am  silent  of  necessity.  I have  friends 
in  both  places.” 


Y}E  ©OULDN’ip  Go  THE  GI^ASS. 

They  tell  a good  story  on  a South  Georgia  states- 
man who  went  to  Charleston  in  the  old  days  and 
stopped  at  a hotel. 

A waiter  brought  him  some  shrimps,  which  the 
Georgian  stowed  away  as  best  he  could.  In  a mo- 
ment the  waiter  reappeared  with  a stand  of  celery. 

^‘No,”  said  the  Georgian,  shaking  his  head 
solemnly,  ‘T  have  tried  your  bugs  and  I don’t  hke 
them,  and  you  can  bet  yer  life  I don’t  want  none 
er  your  grass!” — Atlanta  Constitution. 

Business  with  Y}E^. 

A careful  housewife,  upon  entering  her  kitchen, 
said  to  the  colored  cook : 


HE  couldn’t  go  the  GRASS. 


P.  24. 


/ 


? 


( ' ‘ - : • . 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


25 


^‘Great  goodness!  Jane,  yon  must  be  more  care- 
ful. Yon  are  not  clean  enough  in  your  cooking.” 

‘•Lady,”  replied  the  cook,  as  she  took  up  a 23iece 
of  beef  that  had  fallen  on  the  floor,  “I  sees  dat 
yer’s  gwine  ter  ack  foolish  wid  me.  Ain’t  yer  got 
nothin’  ter  do  ’cept  ter  fool  roun’  out  heah?” 

“It’s  my  business  to  come  out  here  occasionally.” 

“All  right,  den;  hab  it  yer  own  way,  but  I wanter 
say  one  thing:  Ef  yer  wants  ter  ’joy  yesse’f  at  de 
table  an’  eat  wid  er  ’cornin’  apertite  yer’d  better 
stay  outen  dis  kitchen.  Yas,”  she  added,  as  she 
wiped  a dish  with  a dirty  rag,  “yer’d  better  not 
nose  roun’  heah,  fur  cookin’  is  er  bus’ness  wid  me, 
an’  when  er  pusson  is  ’gaged  in  bus’ness,  foohsh- 
ness  is  awful  troublesome.” 


Row  ©hem  Both. 

Mrs.  De  Boggs — Did  you  take  Johnny  to  school, 
J eremiah  ? 

Mr.  De  Boggs — I did.  An  excellent  school  it  is, 
Matilda.  The  scholars  are  models  of  deportment, 
the  curriculum  is  first-class  and  the  professor  a 
man  of  abihty.  At  least  that  is  the  way  he  struck 
me. 

Johnny  (with  a groan) — You  ought  to  have 
stayed  about  an  hour  and  seen  how  he  struck  me. 


26 


TEE  WORLES 


©ILJH  ON  JPHE  gUESJTION. 

‘‘Julia,  I don’t  see  wliy  you  are  going  to  marry 
Harry  Bascomb.  He  hasn’t  any  money  and  it  is 
not  likely  that  he’ll  ever  have  any.” 

“Fanny,  I’d  scorn  to  marry  for  money.  Harry 
is  handsome  and  a fine  athlete.  He  would  bring 
to  me  a sense  of  protection — ” 

“O,  that’s  all  right,  Julia.  Every  one  to  their 
mind.  You  may  marry  for  protection;  I intend  to 
marry  for  revenue.” 


She  Obtained  a Seat. 

As  sharp  a woman  as  Jake  Sharp  himself,  says 
the  New  York  Worlds  entered  a car  on  his  new 
Broadway  line  yesterday  and  found  herself  the  only 
female  passenger.  All  the  seats  were  taken.  The 
woman’s  face  was  flat  as  though  made  out  of  muddy 
paste,  with  one  cheek-bone  considerably  higher 
than  the  other.  A thick  nose  and  a wide  mouth 
with  bluish-black  lips  made  picturesque  the  lower 
part  of  the  face,  and  nature  had  enveloped  it  aU 
with  a dark,  yellowish,  freckled  skin.  The  passen- 
gers saw  all  this  with  a single  glance  and  settled 
themselves  comfortably  in  their  seats. 

The  woman  stood  a moment  at  the  door.  Her 
small,  black  eyes  glared  viciously  straight  ahead. 


SHE  OBTAINED  A SEAT. 


P.  26. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


27 


Suddenly  she  strode  to  the  center  of  the  car  and 
deliberately  planted  herself  on  the  lap  of  an  old 
man. 

Madam,”  he  expostulated,  ‘^you  forget  your- 
self.” 

“If  you  don’t  like  it,  get  up  and  give  me  your 
seat,”  she  replied,  composedly.  A twinkle  of  mirth 
not  unmixed  with  malice  glistened  in  her  eyes. 

“Madam,  I can’t  have  you  sitting  on  my  lap,” 
said  the  old  man,  and  he  gave  her  a push.  The 
woman  wheeled  around  and  seated  herself  on  the 
lap  of  a sickly  looking  man  on  the  other  side  of  the 
car.  “Oh,  oh,  my  toe!”  he  howled.  “Say,  you 
are  stepping  all  over  me!” 

She  jumped  up  and  took  a seat  on  the  lap  of  a 
300-pound  German  passenger. 

“Excuse  me,  madam,”  said  he.  On  his  face  the 
perspiration  was  rolling  down.  “If  you  was  got  up 
I give  you  my  place.  I was  sweating  awful.” 

The  woman  secured  a seat  at  last  and  she 
glanced  triumphantly  at  the  passengers.  Not  one 
of  them  dared  to  lift  his  eyes  to  the  woman’s  face 
after  this.  They  stared  out  of  the  window  or  kept 
their  eyes  rooted  to  the  ground.  The  woman  sig- 
nalled the  conductor  to  stop  at  Chambers  street, 
and  as  she  flounced  to  the  door  with  a spiteful  look 
she  exclaimed:  “You  are  a nice  set  of  gents,  you 
are.  You  can’t  tell  a lady  when  you  see  one. 


28 


THE  WORTHS 


Next  time  I hope  yon  won’t  forget  your  manners.” 

The  conductor  found  a small  bundle  where  the 
woman  had  been  seated.  He  opened  it  and  dis- 
covered a scrub-rag,  a scrub-brush,  and  a cake  of 
soap. 


^ Hew  Disease. 

‘^Bromley,  is  it  true  that  you  lost  your  hired 
girl?” 

“Yes,  Mr.  Dusenberry,  she  died.” 

“Ah!  What  of?” 

“Corroboration.” 

“Of  ivhat  V 

“Corroboration.  She  wanted  to  know  whether 
there  was  really  any  risk  in  hghting  the  fire  with 
kerosene.” 


BOSTONESE  POI^  IPHE  D.  ©. 

The  Boston  girl  never  refers  to  dehrium  tremens 
as  the  jim-jams.  She  drops  decorously  into  slang 
by  calhng  it  the  tight  squeezes  a la  James. — 
Hatchet. 


“Sold”  Both  05ays. 

“Did  you  take  those  boots  of  mine  to  be  soled, 
Larry?” 

“I  did,  sor;  and  see  the  thrifie  the  blag’yard 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


29 


gave  for  ’m! — said  they  was  purty  nigh  wore 
through!” 


^ G.  OP  JPHB  e.  gUBI^Y. 

Why  does  the  “girl  of  the  period”  make  the  best 
housekeeper?  Because  she  makes  so  much  bustle 
about  a little  waist. 


BAI^S  ^BLL-r^AMBD. 

A bar  in  the  river  and  a bar  on  shore  have  the 
same  name,  because  water  is  scarce  in  both  places. 


'‘Rot”  poi^  F^bmbmbi^angb. 

A girl  went  to  the  wharf  to  see  her  sailor  sweet- 
heart off  the  other  day,  and  as  the  ship  started  he 
called  back,  “Don’t  forget  me  Sally.”  Whereupon 
she  tied  a knot  in  the  corner  of  her  handkerchief 
to  remind  her  to  remember  him. 


Boy  "Foi^ty-Rinbi^,” 

A day  or  two  since  a lad  some  eight  years  of  age 
said  to  his  mother,  “Mother,  which  are  we.  Cath- 
olics or  Episcopals?” 

“We  ain’t  any  of  them,”  said  a younger  brother, 
chipping  in;  “we’re  Percific  Coast  Pierneers.” 


30 


THE  ^YORLHS 


Soo  r7lGH-©ONED  r^II^ED  fflEN. 

“Yes,  I come  in  after  a hired  man,”  said  the  old 
farmer  as  he  sipped  his  root-heer  on  the  market 
yesterday,  “but  I’ve  got  disgusted  and  shan’t  try 
very  hard  to  find  one.” 

“What’s  the  matter  vdth  hired  men?” 

“Too  high-toned  and  important.  WTiy,  I had 
one  last  spring  vho  rigged  up  an  umbreUa  over  the 
plow  so  as  not  to  get  tanned,  and  he  refused  to  eat 
with  the  family  because  we  stuck  our  knives  in  our 
mouths!  At  the  end  of  a week  he  quit.  Said 
that  labor  was  ennobling  and  so  forth,  but  the  land- 
scajDe  in  that  vicinity  oft'ended  his  taste.” 

“Yes.” 

“Wall,  I took  on  another,  and  he  put  on  cufis 
and  pohshed  his  boots  before  going  to  work,  and  he 
quit  at  the  end  of  a fortnight  because  we  didn’t 
have  a pianner  in  the  house.  Why,  that  chap 
never  got  up  till  7 o’clock,  and  he  insisted  on  go- 
ing to  the  village  to  get  shaved  and  perfumed  up 
every  other  evening. 

“The  third  one  quit  me  yesterday.  He  wanted 
stained  glass  in  his  bedroom  winder.  He  wanted 
me  to  buy  him  a guitar.  He  wanted  to  paint  all 
the  roofs  red  and  put  pea-green  on  the  corn-cribs. 
He  suggested  a hog-pen  with  a parlor  to  it,  and  he 
spent  two  days  of  my  time  trying  to  arrange  a way 
for  the  windmill  to  milk  the  cows.  I found  him 


TOO  HIGH-TONED  HIRED  MEN. 


P.  30 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


31 


writing  poetry  in  the  corn  field,  and  because  I 
spoke  up  sharply  he  quit  the  job,  polished  up  his 
boots,  and  sent  for  a coupay  to  bring  him  to  the 
city.” — Detroit  Free  Press. 

(Sough  on  ithe  Geese. 

‘‘Waiter,”  said  a gentleman  in  the  dining-car, 
“have  you  any  gooseberry  pie?” 

“No,  sab;  hain’t  carryin’  any  this  yeah;  sah.” 

“Why  is  that?” 

“Well,  you  see,  sah,  they’s  sea’s  this  seasum. 
Las’  winter  was  so  cole  an’  stormy  that  it  was 
mighty  tough  on  de  geese.” 

fl  ©ELLiING  ©EMPEI^ANGE  liEGiTUl^E. 

Two  colored  barbers,  one  an  old  man  and  the 
other  a young  one.  The  young  one  took  off  his 
apron  and  started  out  of  the  door. 

“Yo’s  gwine  to  get  a drink,  Jim?”  asked  the 
elder. 

“Dat’s  what  I’s  gwine  to  do.” 

“Go  and  get  yo’  drink.  I yoost  ter  do  de  same 
ting  when  I was  young.  When  I wuz  fust  married 
dah  was  a ginmill  next  to  de  shop  wha’  I wucked, 
and  I spent  in  it  fifty  and  sebenty  cents  a day 
outen  de  dollah  ’a  half  I eahned.  Well,  one  mawn- 
in’  I went  into  de  butchah  shop,  and  who  shood 
cum  in  but  de  man  wat  kep’  de  likker  shop. 


32 


THE  WORTHS 


^Gib  me  ten  or  twelve  pounds  po’terhoiise 
steak,’  he  said. 

“He  got  it  and  went  out.  I sneaked- up  to  de 
butcliali  and  looked  to  see  what  money  I had  left. 

“ ‘What  do  you  want?’  *said  de  butchah. 

“ ‘Gib  me  ten  cents  wuf  of  libber,’  wuiz  my  re- 
mark. 

“It  wuz  all  I could  pay  fur.  Now  you  go  and 
git  yo’  drink.  You’ll  eat  libber,  but  de  man  wat 
sells  yo’  de  stuff  will  hab  his  po’terhouse  steak. 
De  man  bellin’  de  bar  eats  po’terhouse — de  man  in 
front  eats  libber.  I ain’t  touched  de  stuff  fo’  thirty 
yeahs,  and  I am  eatin’  po’terhouse,  myself.” 


Old  Hbd’s  Bani^ing'  GxPEf^iENGE. 

AFTEK  BEING  A DEPOSITOE  HE  LOSES  CONFIDENCE  IN  THE 

CONCERN. 

Old  Ned  Daniels  came  to  the  city  several  days 
ago,  for  the  purpose,  he  told  a friend,  of  depositing 
his  money  in  a place  of  safety.  He  was  afraid,  he 
declared,  that  some  of  his  neighbors,  knowing  that 
he  had  money,  might  rob  him.  Those  who  heard 
him  talk  thought  that  he  had  at  least  possessed 
several  hundred  dollars.  Keaching  the  bank,  he 
said  to  an  official:  “Mister,  I wants  ter  ’posit  some 
money  in  dis  heah  house.  Ken  I put  $10  in  heah?” 

“Oh,  yes,  you  can  put  in  any  amount.” 


OLD  man’s  banking  EXPERIENCE. 


P.  32. 


% 


- 


^Y1T  AND  WITS. 


33 


“No,  I kain’t.” 

“Yes,  you  can.” 

“I  says  dat  I‘  kain’t,  fur  I'  hain’t  got  any 
ermount.  Er  haw,  haw,  I got  yer  dat  time.  Wall, 
now,  put  dis  $10  back  in  dar  furs  afe  keepin’.” 

The  official  took  the  money  and  handing  the  old 
negro  a small  book,  said : 

“Give  me  your  signature.” 

tT  ain’t  got  er  one,  boss.  Lef’  ’em  all  at  home, 
I thinks.” 

“Write  your  name  here.” 

“Oh,  yes,  I ken  do  dat.” 

After  much  labor  he  wrote  his  name.  He  was 
greatly  pleased  with  the  performance,  and  after  he 
went  outside  he  stood  for  a time,  grinning  with 
satisfaction.  One  of  his  country  acquaintances  ac- 
costed him : 

“How’re  yer,  Bruder  Ned?” 

“Why,  bless  me,  ef  dis  ain’t  Bruder  Eodney. 
Whut  yer  doin’  up  heah,  man?” 

“Oh,  nuthin’  much.  Jes  knockin’  roun’  er  httle. 
Whut  yer  doin’,  yesse’f?” 

“W’y  I’se  got  ter  be  er  man  o’  biggest  sorter 
’portance.  Yer  oughter  seed  me  jes  now.” 

“What  wuz  yer  doin’?” 

“Writin’  fur  er  bank.  Mor’n  dat,  I put  some 
money  in  de  bank.” 


3 


34 


THE  WORLD"  S 


“Now,  look  heah,  man,  I tonght  dat  yer  done 
had  more  sense  dan  dat.  De  fust  ting  yer  knows 
de  bank  g^vineter  be  broke,  an’  er  white  man 
gwineter  run  off  wid  yer  money.” 

Old  Ned  was  troubled.  He  bad  beard  of  bank 
failures,  and  now  be  regretted  that  be  bad  placed 
so  much  confidence  in  men  who  were  strangers  to 
him,  but  remembering  that  be  could  get  bis  money, 
be  went  to  the  bank,  and  addressing  a man  who 
was  counting  money  behind  a network  of  wire, 
said : 

“Look  beab,  yer  got  dat  $10  yit?” 

“What  $10?” 

“De  money  dat  I juit  in  beab  jes  now.” 

“I  don’t  know.  Come  aroimd  some  time  when 
the  bank’s  open.” 

“Ain’t  de  bank  open  now?” 

“No.” 

“I  say  it  is.  Wa’n’t  open  I couldn’t  git  in 
beab.” 

“Go  on  away,  I teU  you.  If  you  don’t  go  I’U 
call  a policeman.” 

“Ob,  I’ll  go.  Eob  er  man,  an’  den  want  ter 
’rest  him  fur  it.” 

“Come  around  to-morrow,  old  man.” 

After  a sleepless  night.  Old  Ned  went  to  the 
bank.  The  same  man  whom  be  had  seen  on  the 
previous  evening  stood  behind  the  network  of  wire, 


SUDDEN  WEALTH. 


P.  38. 


WIT  Ann  WITS. 


36 


still  counting  money. 

“Wall,  sah,  I’se  lieah.” 

“You’ll  have  to  wait  until  the  bank  opens.” 

“Look  aheah,  ain’t  it  open  yit?” 

“No.” 

“Dis  heah  is  the  wust  house  I eber  seed.  Ei 
pusson  ken  git  inter  hit  jes  as  well  when  it’s  shet 
ez  he  ken  when  it’s  open.  I want  that  $10  now. 
I’se  tired  o’  foolin’  wid  dis  heah  ’stahlishment.” 

“Go  on,  old  man,  and  come  back  after  awhile.” 

“I’se  dun  been  erway  an’  I’se  dun  come  back 
arter  a while.  You  folks  hah  dun  stole  dat  $10 
an’  is  now  libin’  on  de  fat  o’  de  Ian’.  Oh,  yer 
needn’t  ter  laugh.  I’se  gwine  erway,  an’  stay  er 
few  minits  an’  den  when  I comes  hack  I wants 
sat’sfackshun.” 

About  an  hour  afterward  when  he  returned  the 
bank  was  open. 

“I  want  dat  $10.” 

“Well,  make  out  a check.” 

‘‘How  make  out  er  check?” 

“Here,  I’ll  fix  it  for  you.  Now  sign  your  name 
to  this,”  he  added.  “Here  you  are,”  handing  him 
the  $10.  “Now  go  on  away  and  don’t  come  back 
here  any  more.” 

“Dat  ’vice  am  onnecessary,  sah.  I’ll  neber  come 
heah  ergin.  Dis  heah  is  tpo  much  o’  er  open  an’ 
shet  bus’ness  ter  suit  me.  Dis  ain’t  de  same 


36 


THE  V;^0BLH8 


money  I j)ut  in  lieah,  an’  I wouldn’t  be  s ’prized  ef 
it  wa’n’t  counterfeit.  Dis  settles  me  wid  de  bank- 
ers,  ’ca’se  I ain’t  bad  no  peace  since  I’se  been  run- 
nin’  wid  ’em..  Good  day.  Yer’s  foobn’  wid  de 
wrong  man  when  yer  foolin’  wid  me.” 

— Opie  P.  Reid. 


Y}is  I^EPUTATioN  Upheld. 

Father — No,  sir;  it  shan’t  be  said  of  me  that  I 
wanted  my  gals  to  get  sphced  so  bad  that  I had  to 
go  out  and  lasso  ’em  and  bring  the  young  men  in. 

One  of  the  girls — No,  father  I Nobly  said!  Give 
me  the  lasso ! 


fl  Shi^ewd  Gir^L. 

A piece  of  evidence  in  a Quebec  breach-of  prom- 
ise case  was  a cuff  with  an  offer  of  marriage  written 
on  it.  One  night,  while  the  defendant  was  holding 
the  plaintiff’s  hand  and  whispering  fer^dd  words,  he 
popped  the  question  in  manuscript  on  the  smooth 
linen  of  her  wrist.  She  was  sentimental  or  shrewd 
enough  to  keep  that  article  out  of  wash,  and  now 
it  is  of  practical  value. 

©HE  Gip^ls  of  Ghei^i^yyale. 

Kansas,  the  land  of  corn  and  contentment,  is 
prohfic  also  in  fair  women  and  brave  men.  Your 


a 


HE  WILL  NOT  COMEIN  ALL  THIS  RAIN. 


P.  38. 


WJT  AND  WITS, 


37 


Kansas  girl  is  as  plump  as  a partridge,  as  coy  as  a 
quail ; healthy,  hearty,  active,  independent  and 
happy  as  the  big  sunflowers  of  which  that  State  is 
so  justly  proud.  And  there  is  a spot  in  Kansas 
where  female  loveliness  seems  to  have  been  crys- 
tahzed  and  concentrated,  as  it  were.  That  elysium 
is  very  appropriately  named  Cherry  vale.  Cherry- 
vale! — Vale  of  Cherries!  Name  suggestive  of  coral 
bps  and  rosy  cheeks.  Name  full  of  sweet  and  juicy 
promise.  One’s  mouth  waters  when  he  attempts 
to  pronounce  the  luscious  word,  and  he  thinks  of 
ruby  treasures  half  hidden  in  bright  foliage,  dehc- 
ious,  but  hard  to  get.  And  the  maidens  of  this 
modern  paradise  are  just  as  pretty  and  sweet  and 
plump  as  the  fruit  of  whose  praises  we  sing,  for,  in 
the  language  of  a newspaper  printed  in  that  Uto- 
pian village,  “Neither  bustle  nor  corset  is  worn  in 
Cherry  vale.” 


OFI  A BAPIPISIP  IXOYBI^. 

It  was  raining  in  torrents,  and  Evangehne  stood 
by  her  window  looking  out  into  the  night.  “Why 
dost  thou  wait  here,  Evangehne,  my  daughter?” 
inquired  the  mother. 

“I  am  waiting  for  Gabriel,  mother,”  replied  the 
girl,  tenderly. 

‘‘He  will  not  come,  my  dear,  in  all  this  rain.” 


88 


THE  WORTHS 


‘‘Yes,  he  will,  mother  mine.  Gabriel  does  not 
fear  a little  wet  like  this.  He  is  a Baptist.” 

In  ten  minutes  Gabriel  was  in  the  parlor  asking 
for  a drink  of  water. — Rittshurg  Dispatch. 

^ 

SUDDEN  Health. 

Old  gentleman  (to  tramp,  to  whom  he  has  just 
given  a nickel) — Now,  my  friend,  what  will  you  do 
with  all  that  money? 

Tramp  (gazing  awe  struck  at  the  nickel)— I think 
I’ll  put  part  of  it  in  the  bank,  sir,  and  the  rest  I’ll 
spend  for  a peach-blow  vase. 

©HE  IMPI^ESSIONIST. 

Oh,  pluck  me  a pink  from  a dizzy  profusion 
Of  posies,  exotics,  and  mints ; 

And  let  me  enjoy  this  delirious  illusion — 

This  mad  conflagration  of  tints. 

I see  it,  I feel  it,  no  limit  can  hind  me. 

This  pleasure  is  surely  too  much ; 

Somebody  must  hurry,  and  hustle  and  find  ro^-^ 
Or  I shall  collapse  at  a touch. 

To  tell  it  to  others  is  out  of  my  power, 

Just  what  is  the  matter  with  me ; 

It  thrills  me,  and  fills  me,  this  peep  at  a flower, 
And  makes  me  too  giddy  to  be. 

— Atlanta  Constitution, 


rnr?Amr 

r c r ,r 


JSr-:-; 


A STRIKE  OF  OTPIER  DAYS. 


P-  39- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


39 


fl  OP  OiPHEi^  Days 

BUEDETTE. 

These  strikes  by  the  school  children  are  nothing 
new.  But  they  don’t  develop  and  bring  out  and 
down  the  strong  hand  of  the  ruling  power  as  they 
used  to.  Among  the  sunny  memories  of  my  own 
school  days  there  glows,  bright  and  soft  as  a sum- 
mer sunset,  the  picture  of  the  great  strike  at  Hin- 
man’s,  in  Peoria,  away  back  in  1853.  Hinman’s 
was  the  greatest  school  in  the  West.  The  dear  old 
man  was  Superintendent  of  Public  Instruction, 
Board  of  Education,  School  Trustee,  County  Su- 
perintendent, Principal,  assistant,  and  janitor.  He 
had  a pleasant  smile,  a firm  temper,  and  a slate 
frame.  He  also"  carried  about  his  person  a grip 
that  would  make  a blacksmith’s  vise  crawl  into  the 
scrap  heap  and  hide  itself.  We  used  to  have  gen- 
eral excerises  Friday  afternoons,  at  which  we  were 
wont  to  recite  in  vociferous  concert  the  multipli- 
cation tables,  the  States  and  Capitals,  and  such 
thrilhng  rhetorical  excerises  as  “Will  you  tualM  or 
rideT'  and  “They  tell  its  to  be  Monerate,  but  tliey^ 
THEY — are  torevelinpro  FU-sion !”  It  was  thrilling. 
But  after  we  had  learned  all  these  chants“  by  heart” 
and  could  chant  them  off  with' our  eyes  shut,  “Old 
Hinrnan”  introduced  an  innovation — “speakin’ 


40 


THE  WORTHS 


pieces.”  Upon  that  we  struck.  We  endured  it 
three  weeks  and  then  we  determined  to  boycott 
the  whole  business.  All  the  boys  went  into  it.  Bill 
Smith  and  Hub  Tuttle,  Bob  Gregg,  Ed  Easton, 
Steve  Bunn,  Bill  Eodecker,  Hen  Keener,  and  all 
the  big  boys,  too.  The  first  hoy  called  on  to 
“speak”  was  to  announce  the  strike,  and  as  my 
name  came  pretty  well  up  in  the  alfabet,  I stood  a 
good  chance  of  being  a leader,  a distinction  for 
which  I was  not  at  all  ambitious,  because  of  tender 
years  and  of  a ruddy  countenance  and  sensitive  feel- 
ings. But  a boy  named  Allen,  who  was  called 
ahead  of  me,  flunked,  and  said  his  piece,  “Hohen- 
hnden,”  although  we  made  such  suggestive  ges- 
tures at  him  that  he  forgot  half  of  it  and  broke 
down  and  cried.  When  I was  called  I refused  to 
speak.  Being  pressed  for  a reason,  I said,  in  fal- 
tering accents,  that  ‘There  wasn’t  goin’  to  be  no 
more  speakin’.”  When  the  old  man,  with  un- 
feigned surprise,  asked  me  who  said  so,  I said  “all 
of  us  did.”  Then  he  said  there  would  he  “a  httle 
more  speaking”  before  the  close  of  the  session,  and 
so  he  led  me  out  upon  the  rostrum.  Then  and 
there,  vith  feehngs  which  I now  shudder  to  recall, 
I did  my  first  song  and  dance  act.  I had  often 
before  performed  my  sohtary  cachuca  to  the  lasciv- 
ious pleasing  of  “Old  Hinman’s”  slate  frame,  but 
never  had  I accompanied  myself  with  words.  Boy 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


41 


like,  I had  selected  for  my  piece  a poem  expressive 
of  those  peaceful  virtues  I most  heartly  despised, 
so  that  my  performance  at  the  inauguration  of  the 
strike  ran  somewhat  like  this : 

^‘0,  not  forme  (whack!)  is  the  rolling  (whack!) 
drum. 

Or  the  (whack,  whack!)  trumpet’s  wild  (whack) 
appeal.  Boo  hoo ! 

Or  the  cry  (Boo  hoo)  of  (whack)  war  when  the 
(whack)  foe  is  come, 

Or  the  (Ow!)  brightly  (whack)  flashing  steel” 
(whack,  whack). 

I cannot  convey  to  the  most  vivid  imagination 
the  gestures  which  accompanied  the  seven  stanzas 
of  this  beautiful  poem.  Suffice  it  to  say  that  they 
kept  pace  with  the  old  man’s  peculiar  system  of 
punctuation  until  at  last,  overcome  with  conflicting 
emotions,  I went  sobbing  to  my  seat  and  won- 
dered why  an  inscrutable  Providence  had  given  to 
the  rhinoceros  the  hide  that  the  eternal  fitness  of 
things  had  evidently  prepared  for  the  school-boy. 

But  I forgot  my  own  sorrows  and  dried  my  tears 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  play,  as  my  compatriots 
developed  it.  Mr.  Hinman,  who  had  been  un- 
usually gentle  and  self-restrained  with  me,  lost  his 
temper  with  the  boy  who  followed  me,  and  there 
was  a sound  of  revelry  for  the  next  hour.  He 
shook  boys  until  their  teeth  rattled  so  you  couldn’t 


42 


TEE  W0RLE8 


hear  them  cry;  he  hit  Mickey  McCann,  the  tough 
boy,  one  whack  mth  a skate  strap  and  Mickey  ran 
out  and  rolled  in  the  snow  to  cool  off;  he  hit  Jake 
Bailey  across  the  thighs  with  the  slate  frame  and 
it  hurt  so  that  Jake  couldn’t  howl — he  just  opened 
his  mouth  and  gasped  and  forgot  his  own  name ; he 
pushed  Bill  Haskell  into  a seat  and  the  bench 
broke ; he  shook  Dan  Stevens  so  that  his  feet  didn’t 
touch  the  floor  for  five  minutes ; he  ran  across  the 
room  and  reached  out  for  Lem  Harkins,  and  Lem 
had  a fit  before  the  old  man  touched  him ; he  whipped 
the  two  Knowltons  vdth  both  hands  at  the  same 
time,  and  the  Gibbon  family,  five  boys  and  a big  - 
girl,  he  hit  all  at  once  with  a girl’s  skipping  rope 
and  they  raised  such  a united  wail  the  clock 
stopped ; he  kept  the  atmosphere  of  that  old  school- 
room full,  of  dust,  and  sphnters,  and  hnt,  weeping, 
waihng,  and  gnashing  of  teeth,  until  his  old  arms 
ached  and  all  hearts  wearied  of  the  inhuman  strife 
and  wicked  contention,  and  then  he  stood  up  before 
us,  in  a sickening  tangle  of  strap,  and  cane,  and 
slate  frame,  rattan  and  skipping  rope,  and  asked,  in 
clear,  triumphant  tones : 

“Who  says  there  4sn’t  going  to  be  any  more 
speakin’?” 

And  the  boys  of  that  school  rose  np  as  one  being 
and  shrieked  in  tones  of  anguish  : 

“Nobody!” 


IV 


^ r 


RIPE  LIMBURGER. 


P-  43 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


43 


And  I,  who  led  that  strike  and  was  its  first 
martyr,  I have  been  “speakin”  ever  since. — 
BrooMyn  Eagle. 

FJIPB  LciMBai^GEF^. 

“They  didn’t  pick  that  stuff  quick  enough,  did 
they,  mamma?”  asked  a little  hoy,  as  he  passed  a 
grocery  where  several  cakes  of  Limburger  were 
taking  a breathing  spell  outside. 

“©HE  CQAY  @UEEN”  fflODEr^NIZED 
AFTEK  TENNYSON A LONG  WAYS. 

You  must  get  my  gum- shoes,  mother,  and  my  other 
winter  things. 

To-morrow’ll  be  a sample  day  of  our  Chicago 
springs ; 

Of  all  the  chilblain  time,  mother,  the  roughest, 
rawest  day; 

For  I’m  to  he  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to 
be  queen  of  the  May. 

There’s  many  a wise,  wise  girl,  they  say;  hut  none 
can  head  me  off ; 

And  will  I be  the  May-queen  sure?  Well,  I should 
rather  cough. 

You  know  it’s  done  by  vote,  mother — I fixed  that 
yesterday ; 


U THE  W0RLH8 

So  I’m  to  be  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 

I sleep  so  sound  all  night,  mother,  that  I shall 
never  wake. 

And  might  thereby  miss  all  my  chance  of  captur- 
ing the  cake ; 

But  I must  get  some  boneset  tea  and  liver-pads  so 

gay; 

For  I’m  to  be  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 

As  I came  through  the  tunnel  whom  think  ye  I 
should  meet 

But  Kobin,  with  his  tooth-pick  shoes  and  ecru 
pants  so  sweet; 

My  heart  was  very  sad,  mother,  all  through  the 
matinee ; 

But  I’m  to  be  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 

They  say  he  is  dying  all  for  love — (such  stories 
make  me  lame) — 

And  that  ever  since  I fired  him  out  he’s  never  been 
the  same. 

They  say  I’m  cruel-hearted,  but  I’m  only  making 
hay; 

For  I’m  to  be  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


45 


I.attle  Effie  slian’t  go  with  me  to-morrow  to  the 
green ; 

She’s  rather  too  attractive,  and  your  daughter’s 
wise,  I ween. 

I’ve-  been  eighteen  now  for  summers  three,  nor 
older  grown  a day ; 

But  I’m  to  he  queen  of  the  May,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 

So  wake  and  call  me  early,  call  me  early,  mother 
dear; 

Cook  ham  and  eggs  and  buckwheat  cakes,  your 
daughter’s  heart  to  cheer. 

Let  sealskin  sacque  and  waterproof  and  gum-shoes 
greet  the  day. 

For  I’m  to  be  queen  of  the  M^,  mother,  I’m  to  be 
queen  of  the  May. 


IOooden-Lcegged  (Dan’s 

Speaking  of  wooden  legs,  there  is  an  old  soldier 
employed  in  the  government  service  in  this  city 
who  has  had  some  experience  with  an  artificial 
limb,  his  meat  one  having  been  taken  off  at  the 
knee.  Among  the  most  amusing  was  one  with  a 
sleeping-car  porter.  This  pampered  railway  tyrant 
rai’ely  earns  his  quarter  all  round  by  his  pretense 
of  blacking  shoes  and  flipping  dust  from  his  vie- 


46 


THE  WOBLHS 


tim’s  back,  but  it  is  the  habit  of  this  wooden-legged 
man  to  utilize  the  darky  in  taking  off  that  leg  and 
making  him  earn  his  hire.  On  one  train  he  struck 
an  uppish  sort  of  porter — a brother  to  the  insuffer- 
able swell  who  sings  out : “Last  call  for  dinnah  in 
the  dining  cah!”  That  darky  stood  around  with  a 
languid  dignity  that  would  make  a street  corner 
dude  sick  at  heart. 

The  man  with  the  wooden  leg  made  up  his  mind 
he  would  “wake  that  nigger  up”  before  he  chipped 
in  his  quarter. 

He  told  a couple  of  men  in  the  car  his  purpose 
and  they  joined  with  him.  He  wears  his  shoe 
firmly  fastened  to  the  wooden  leg,  having  no  need 
to  remove  it  and  having  fallen  once  from  a loose 
shoe.  After  his  berth  had  been  made  he  went  to 
the  dressing-room  and  unstrapped  the  leg,  keeping 
hold  of  the  strap,  and  then  got  into  the  berth. 
Then  he  called  the  porter. 

“I’ve  got  rheumatism  and  can’t  bend  over,”  he 
said,  “and  I wish  you’d  pull  off  that  shoe.”  The 
porter  untied  the  shoe  and  tried  to  pull  it  off,  but 
it  wouldn’t  come. 

“Pull  hard,”  said  the  passenger. 

The  darkey  gave  it  another  pull. 

“Oh,  brace  against  the  berth  and  pull,”  said  the 
passenger.  The  porter  had  blood  in  his  eye.  He 
put  his  foot  against  the  berth  and  pulled  like  a 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


47 


dentist.  The  passenger  let  go  the  strap  and  the 
darky  fell  back  with  the  shoe  and  the  leg. 

“My  God,  you’ve  pulled  off  my  leg !”  shrieked 
the  passenger. 

The  porter  dropped  it,  and  with  his  eyes  bulging 
and  his  teeth  chattering  he  broke  from  the  car. 
He  concealed  himself  in  a corner  of  the  baggage 
car,  and  pretty  soon  the  two  other  conspirators 
came  in,  pretending  they  didn’t  know  where  he 
was,  sat  down  on  a trunk  and  talked  over  the  awful 
condition  of  the  man  whose  leg  had  been  pulled 
off,  and  about  the  penalty  the  darky  would  have  to 
suffer  if  he  should  be  caught.  The  porter  was  of 
no  service  to  anybody  that  night,  even  after  they 
explained  the  joke  to  him. 

IJAW  AND  OF^DBF^. 

Lew  Campbell  is  a pious  traveler  who  handles 
baking-powder  down  south.  Not  long  ago  he  went 
into  a local- option  town,  and  the  first  dealer  he 
met  came  back  at  him. 

“Did  you  know  we  were  only  recognizing  local- 
option  men,  now?”  asked  the  merchant. 

“No  I didn’t  know.”  answered  Lew,  with  a 
conciliatory  smile. 

“Well,  we  are;  and  before  I look  at  your  samples 
I want  to  know  if  you  are  an  advocate  of  law  and 
order.” 


THE  WORTHS 


4S 

''Of  course  I am,”  said  Lew,  with  emphasis,  “I 
don’t  care  about  the  law,  but  you  can  bet  I’m  in 
for  an  order  every  time.” — Merchant  Traveler, 

It  ^AS  (3UST  the. ©king. 

Customer — Mr.  Pillroller,  I want  two  pounds  of 
alum,  right  away. 

Druggist — Sorry,  sir,  hut  I haven’t  an  ounce  of 
alum  in  the  shop;  just  this  minute  sold  the  last.  I 
have  a very  good  article  of  baking  powder,  hoW' 
ever,  indorsed  by  Profs.  — . 

Customer — First-rate;  give  me  a pound  can. 
There’s  a little  too  much  alum  in  it,  but  I can 
make  it  do. 


©OMMENDABLE  ^I^UDBNGB. 

Smith  (nervously) — Are  you  sure  there  are  no. 
toadstools  among  these  mushrooms? 

Mary  (guileless) — They  wuz  bought  for  the 
missus’  table,  but  she  told  me  to  try  ’em  first  on 
the  boarders. 


Ro  Doubt  as  to  Yjis  Condition. 

Harry — I hear  that  3^011  have  lost  ^mur  father. 
Allow  me  to  express  m}^  synlpath3^ 

Jack  (with  a sigh) — Thank  ^mu.  Yes,  he  has 
gone ; but  the  event  was  expected  for  a long  time, 


" BHE  TOLD  ME  TO  TRY  'EM  FIRST  ON  THE  BOARDERS. 


w 

I 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


49 


and  the  blow  was  consequently  less  severe  than  if 
it  had  not  been  looked  for. 

H. — His  property  was  large? 

J. — Yes ; something  like  a quarter  of  a milhon. 

H. — I heard  that  his  intellect,  owing  to  his  ill- 
ness, was  somewhat  feeble  during  his  latter  years. 
Is  there  any  probability  of  the  will  being  contested  ? 

J. — No;  father  was  quite  sane  when  he  made 
his  will.  He  left  everything  to  me. 


©ELLING  ©ALES  IN  GEOI^GIA. 

Peyt  Norman  says  he  saw  twenty-six  horses, 
hitched  to  twenty- six  plows,  run  away  in  a corn-' 
field  at  one  time,  and  they  made  the  corn  fairly  fly. 
Buck  Wheeler  matched  this  tale  with  a pet  coon 
that  used  to  watch  a lady  wash  dishes.  After  she 
got  through  the  coon  would  soap  himself  all  over, 
get  in  the  dish-water,  and  wash  himself  over  with 
the  dish-rag.  Peyt  and  Buck  were  immediately 
arrested  under  a charge  of  high  treason  to  truth 
and  brought  before  the  boisterous  court.  Capt. 
Judge  Johnson,  P.  M.,  presiding,  found  guilty,  and 
sentenced  to  teU  the  truth  (hard  labor)  for  sixty 
days,  or  cider  and  peanuts  for  the  court.  The  case 

will  be  appealed  on  technical  grounds. 

4 


50 


THE  WORLD'S 


^ Boston  (Child’s  Wisdom. 

Dr.  W is  a well  known  physician  at  Dor- 

chester. He  has  a httle  son  about  5 years  old  and 
a daughter  about  7.  It  has  been  his  custom  to 
give  the  children  a weekty  allowance  of  10  cents 
each,  in  return  for  which  they  agree  to  have  their 
play  tilings  stowed  away  when  through  using  them. 
Last  Friday  evening  he  was  approached  by  Bessie, 
the  httle  girl,  who  remarked : 

“Papa,  I am  going  to  strike.  I want  20  cents  a 
week.” 

“I  can’t  meet  the  demand,”  rephed  the  doctor. 

“Well,  then,  let’s  arbitrate!”  said  Bessie. 


©HE  SAr^TH. 


BILL  XYE. 


The  earth  is  that  body  in  the  solar  system  which 
most  of  my  readers  now  reside  upon,  and  wliich 
some  of  them,  I regret  to  say,  modestly  desire  to 
own  and  control,  forgetting  that  the  earth  is  the 
Lord’s,  and  the  fullness  thereof.  Some  men  do  not 
care  who  owns  the  earth  so  long  as  they  get  the  full- 
ness. 

The  earth  is  500,000,000  years  of  age,  according 


A BOSTON  child’s  WISDOM 


P.  5C. 


-- 


m ~ 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


51 


to  Prof.  Proctor,  but  she  doesn’t  look  it  to  me. 
The  Duke  of  Argyll  maintains  that  she  is  10,000,- 
000  years  old  last  August,  but  what  does  an  ordin- 
ary duke  know  about  these  things?  So  far  as  I 
am  concerned  I will  put  Proctor’s  memory  against 
that  of  any  low-priced  duke  that  I have  ever  seen. 

Newton  claimed  that  the  earth  would  gradually 
dry  up  and  become  porous,  and  that  water  would 
at  last  become  a curiosity.  Many  beleive  this  and 
are  rapidly  preparing  their  systems  by  a rigid  course 
of  treatment,  so  that  they  can  live  for  years  with- 
out the  use  of  water  internally  or  externally. 

Other  scientists  who  have  sat  up  nights  to  mon- 
key with  the  solar  system,  and  thereby  shattered 
their  nervous  systems,  claim  that  the  earth  is  get- 
ting top-heavy  at  the  north  pole,  and  that  one  of 
these  days  while  we  are  thinking  of  something  else, 
the  great  weight  of  accummulated  ice,  snow,  and 
the  vast  accummulation  of  second-hand  arctic  relief 
expeditions,  will  jerk  the  earth  out  of  its  present 
position  with  so  much  spontaneity,  and  in  such  an 
extremely  forthwith  manner,  that  many  people  will 
be  permanently  strabismused  and  much  bric-a-brac 
will  be  for  sale  at  a great  sacrifice.  This  may  or 
may  not  be  true.  I have  not  been  up  in  the  arctic 
regions  to  investigate  its  truth  or  falsity,  though 
there  seems  to  be  a growing  sentiment  throughout 
the  country  in  favor  of  my  going.  A great  many 


52 


THE  WORLDS 8 


people  during  the  past  year  .have  written  me  and 
given  me  their  consent. 

If  I could  take  about  twenty  good,  picked  men, 
and  go  up  there  for  the  summer,  instead  of  bring- 
ing hack  twenty  picked  men,  I wouldn’t  mind  the 
trip,  and  I feel  that  we  really  ought  to  have  a larger 
colony  on  ice  in  that  region  than  we  now  have. 

The  earth  is  composed  of  land  and  water.  Some 
of  the  water  has  large  chunks  of  ice  in  it.  The 
earth  revolves  around  its  own  axle  once  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  though  it  seems  to  revolve  faster  than 
that,  and  to  wobble  a good  deal  during  the  holidays. 
Nothing  tickles  the  earth  more  than  to  confuse -a 
man  when  he  is  coming  home  late  at  night,  and 
then  to  rise  up  suddenly  and  hit  him  in  the  back 
with  a town  lot.  People  who  think  there  is  no  fun 
or  relaxation  among  the  heavenly  bodies  certainly 
have  not  studied  their  habits.  Even  the  moon  is 
a humorist. 

A friend  of  mine,  who  was  returning  late  at  night 
from  a regular  meeting  of  the  Society  for  the 
Amelioration  of  the  Hot  Scotch,  said  that  the 
earth  rose  up  suddenly  in  front  of  him,  and  hit  him 
with  a right  of  way,  and  as  he  was  about  to  rise  up 
again  he  was  stunned  by  a terrific  blow  between 
the  shoulder  blades  Avith  an  old  land  grant  that  he 
thought  had  lapsed  years  ago.  When  he  staggered 
to  his  feet  he  found  that  the  moon,  in  order  to  add 


TiiK  p:arth. 


p-  53. 


(.?  T'E 

. ,r-r  I ' • ^ 'C* 

IV. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


53 


to  his  confusion,  had  gone  down  in  front  of  him, 
and  risen  again  behind  him,  with  her  thumb  on  her 
nose. 

So  I say,  without  fear  of  successful  contradic- 
tion, that  if  you  do  not  think  that  planets  and  orbs 
and  one  thing  and  another  have  fun  on  the  quiet 
you  are  grossly  ignorant  of  their  habits. 

The  earth  is  about  half  way  between  Mercury 
and  Saturn  in  the  matter  of  density.  Mercury  is 
of  about  the  specific  gravity  of  iron,  while  that  of 
Saturn  corresponds  with  that  of  cork  in  the  matter 
of  density  and  specific  gravity.  The  earth,  of 
course,  does  not  compare  with  Mercury  in  the 
matter  of  solidity,  yet  it  is  amply  firm  for  all  prac- 
tical purposes.  A negro  whojell  out  of  the  tower 
of  a twelve- story  building  while  trying  to  clean  the 
upper  window  by  drinking  a quart  of  alcohol  and 
then  breathing  hard  on  the  glass,  says  that  he  re- 
gards the  earth  as  perfectly  solid,  and  safe  to  do 
business  on  for  years  to  come.  He  claims  that 
those  who  maintain  that  the  earth’s  crust  is  only 
2,500  miles  in  thickness  have  not  thoroughly  tested 
the  matter  by  a system  of  practical  experiments. 

The  poles  of  the  earth  are  merely  imaginary.  I 
hate  to  print  this  statement  in  a large  paper  in 
such  a way  as  to  injure  the  reputation  of  great 
writers  on  this  subject  who  still  cling  to  the  theory 
that  the  earth  revolves  upon  large  poles,  and  that 


64 


THE  WORLHS 


the  aurora  borealis  is  but  the  reflection  from  a hot 
box  at  the  north  pole,  but  I am  here  to  tell  the 
truth,  and  if  my  readers  think  it  disagreeable  to 
read  the  truth,  what  must  be  my  anguish  who  have 
to  tell  it?  The  mean  diameter  of  the  earth  is  7,- 
916  English  statute  miles,  hut  the  actual  diameter 
from  pole  to  pole  is  a still  meaner  diameter,  being 
7,899  miles,  while  the  equatorial  diameter  is  7,925^ 
miles. 

The  long  and  patient  struggle  of  our  earnest  and 
tireless  geographers  and  savants  in  past  years  in 
order  to  obtain  these  figures  and  have  them  exact, 
few  can  fully  realize.  The  long  and  thankless  job 
of  measuring  the  diameter  of  the  earth,  no  matter 
what  the  weather  might  be,  away  from  home  and 
friends,  footsore  and  weary,  still  plodding  on,  fa- 
tigued but  determined  to  know  the  mean  diameter 
of  the  earth,  even  if  it  took  a leg,  measuring  on  for 
thousands  of  weary  miles,  and  getting  farther  and 
farther  away  from  home,  and  then  forgetting,  per- 
haps, how  many,  thousand  miles  they  had  gone,  and 
being  compelled  to  go  hack  and  measure  it  over 
again  while  their  noses  got  red  and  their  fingers 
were  benumbed.  These,  fellow-citizens,  are  a few 
of  the  sacrifices  that  science  has  made  on  our  be- 
half in  order  that  we  may  not  grow  up  in  ignorance. 
These  are  a few  of  the  blessed  privileges  which, 
along  with  life,  liberty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happi- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


55 


ness,  are  ours — ours  to  anticipate,  ours  to  partici- 
pate, ours  to  precipitate. 


^ANIPED  ITHB  elOB. 

New  Boy — Say,  boss,  going  to  shut  up  yer  store 
now? 

Hardware  Dealer — Yes;  right  away. 

New  Boy — Do  you  shut  up  everything? 
Hardware  Dealer — Yes,  everything. 

New  Boy — Say,  boss,  can  I shut  up  the  knives? 


OJANJPBD  mo  ©LAY. 

Base-Ball  Manager — What  position  do  you  want 
to  play? 

Applicant — Short-stop. 

Base-Ball  Manager — Have  you  ever  had  any  ex- 
perience in  that  position  ? 

Apphcant — Oh,  yes;  I seldom  stop  long  with 
any  one  club. 


ROTHING  SHOGgING  IN  IT. 

Attorney- General  Garland  confesses  that  he  is 
not  a success  at  poker.  Henry  Clay  was  more  for- 
tunate. He  used  to  have  card  parties  at  the 
Ashland  homestead,  and  it  is  not  on  record  that 
the  speculation  was  a had  one.  One  day  a young 


66 


THE  WORTHS 


lady  visitor  from  the  north,  to  whom  the  sight  of 
the  poker  tables  was  rather  an  alarming  one,  said 
to  the  wife  of  the  statesman : 

“Mrs.  Clay,  doesn’t  it  shock  you  to  see  your  hus- 
band playing  cards  so  much  in  his  own  home?” 

“Oh,  no,”  replied  the  benevolent  old  lady,  inno- 
cently, “he  most  always  wins.” 

— Washington  Hatchet. 


Something  ^Ippi^opi^iate. 

Litewait — Weally,  doncher  know,  I cawn’t  think 
what  soht  of  ovahcoat  to  purchase  for  spring,  ye 
know.  What  would  ^mu  suggest  as  most  appwo- 
pwiate.  Miss  Clarwa? 

Miss  C. — Why  don’t  you  try  a monkey-iacket? 
— The  Rambler. 


DlI^T  ©HEAP. 

A small  boy  reading  advertisements,  comes  to 
the  following:  “For  sale — Barber  shop;  dirt 
cheaj).”  Small  hoy,  with  look  of  disgust  on  his 
face — “Say,  paw,  don’t  you  think  it’s  cheeky  in  the 
owner  to  want  to  charge  anything  for  the  dirt?” 
This  anecdote  teaches  that  the  public  school  sys- 
tem is  sadly  deficient  in  the  department  which 
should  make  pupils  familiar  with  the  use  of  elegant 
commercial  terms. 


SOMETHING  APPROPRIATE. 


P.  56. 


- , , , 


D 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


67 


In  SeliFi-Dbpbnsb. 

A young  man  had  been  arrested  for  kissing  a 
pretty  girl  and  she  was  on  the  witness-stand. 

^‘You  say,”  said  the  attorney  for  the  defense, 
“that  the  young  man  kissed  you  against  your  will?” 

“Yes,  he  did,  and  he  did  it  a dozen  times,  too.” 

“Well,  now,  is  it  not  true  that  you  also  kissed 
him  during  the  affray?” 

Objected  to;  objection  overruled. 

“Now  answer  my  question,”  continued  the 
attorney.  “Did  you  not  kiss  the  defendant  also?” 

“Yes,  I did,”  replied  the  witness,  indignantly, 
“but  it  was  in  self-defense.” 

Case  dismissed. 


fl  gAP^iriAL  Gxgusb. 

Thomas  Charlton  hooked  his  chin  over  the 
prisoner’s  bar  at  the  police  court  and  regarded  his 
honor  with  a bland  smile. 

“Thomas,  you  are  charged  with  being  drunk,” 
said  the  court. 

“I  can’t  deny  it,”  said  Thomas,  grinning  from 
ear  to  ear. 

“You  don’t  seem  to  be  yeiy  sorry.” 

“I’m  happy,  yer  honor,”  said  the  prisoner,  gig- 

gling- 

“What  excuse  have  you  for  getting  drunk?” 


58 


THE  WORTHS 


“I’ve  got  seven  of  ’em,  judge.” 

“Seven  excuses?” 

“Yes,  yer  honor,  seven.  Now  I don’t  mind 
telling  ye  all  ’bout  it.  Ye  see,  I’ve  got  six  boys,  in 
my  family,  and  las’  night — it’s  a girl,  judge.” 
Thomas  got  off. 


Genei^ous  ^oman. 

In  a recent  suit  before  a Georgia  court  a female 
fortune-teller  testified  that  she  knew  for  a fuU 
month  beforehand  that  cotton  would  go  dovm  two 
or  three  points. 

“I  should  think  you  would  have  invested  on  a 
sure  thing,”  observed  the  opposing  counsel. 

“Oh,  I had  a sure  thing  enough,”  she  artlessly 
replied.  “I  was  being  paid  about  $20  per  day  by  a 
ring  to  predict  that  wheat  would  soon  make  a ten- 
point  jump.  I don’t  want  the  whole  earth.” 


yoUNG  liOVE^  (Display. 

“I  understand  yotir  engagement  vdth  Miss  Faun- 
tleroy  is  broken  off’.” 

“Yes,  we  had  a spat  the  other  evening  at  the 
garden  gate  and  parted  for  good.” 

“Too  bad;  hut  did  you  not  throw  her  a parting 
kiss?” 

“0,  yes;  but  she  muffed  it.” — Merchant  Traveler, 


■ ■ 


, r- 


the;  price  of  raisins.  p.  59 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


59 


eXGIiPEMENiIi  IN  HTHE  (©HUI^GHES. 

Horace — I see  by  the  papers  that  there  was  a 
“tie-np”  in  several  churches  yesterday. 

Angelina — Oh,  these  horrid  labor  troubles,  when 
will  they  cease?  By  the  way,  though,  how  could 
there  be  a “tie-up”  in  church? 

Horace — Easy  enough;  the  happy  couples  just 
walked  up  to  the  chancel  rails  and  the  minister  did 
the  business  in  fifteen  minutes. 


©HE  ei^IGE  OP  FJAISINS. 

“How  much  is  these  raisins  wuth?”  asked  a far- 
mer as  he  dipped  into  the  box  for  a sample. 

^‘Five  cents,”  said  the  grocer. 

“Five  cents  for  how  many — a pound?” 

“No,  for  those  you’ve  got  in  your  hand.” 


FjEGAI^DIiESS  OP  €XPENSE. 

Mr.  Parvenu  (to  dealer  in  tombstones) — Yes,  sir, 
, I want  the  very  finest  kind  of  a stone  you’ve  got.  I 
don’t  mean  to  put  no  slouch  of  a stone  over  Mrs. 
Parvenu.  Now,  that  there  one  seems  to  have  all 
the  trimmings.  I’ll  jest  take  that. 

Dealer — But  that  was  made  for  another  party 
and  it  has  the  name  “Jones”  on  it. 

Mr.  P. — Oh,  that  don’t  make  no  difference, 
Mrs.  Parvenu  couldn’t  read. — The  Bamhler, 


60 


THE  WORTHS 


Bai^adisb  I^bgainbd. 

SWEET  LOVE  LETTEES  FOUND  IN  A BALE  OF  COTTON  IN  A 
LEWISTON  mLL. 

The  queerest  postoffice  w^e  ever  heard  of  was  de- 
veloped the  other  day  in  the  card-room  of  a Lewis- 
ton cotton-mill,  where  the  air  is  full  of  bhnding 
dust  and  shreds  of  the  flying  cotton  and  deafening 
with  the  whirr  of  the  shafting  and  the  rattle  of  the 
cards.  The  postmaster  Avas  one  of  the  hands  em- 
ployed in  the  card-room  of  the  Androscoggin  mills. 
The  epistle  was  a sweet,  sweeter,  sweetest  love 
letter  addressed  to  a girl  Avay  doAAUi  in  Alabama, 
and  Avas  found  sticking  its  AAffiite  enA^elope  out  from 
beneath  the  iron  band  of  a bale  of  cotton.  The 
finding  and  the  sequel  have  a touch  of  romance. 

It  happened  six  Aveeks  ago.  A big  bale  of  cotton 
had  been  rolled  into  the  floor  of  the  Androscoggin 
picker-room,  and  one  of  the  hands  Avas  getting  it 
ready  for  the  first  operation,  AAdien  he  caught  a 
ghmpse  of  a piece  of  A\ffiite  paper  sticking  out  from 
under  the  band  about  the  cotton  bale.  It  Avas  a 
letter  addressed  to  a girl  in  the  land  of  cotton.  It 
A\"as  a modest  looking  letter,  just  as  unassuming  as 
the  modern  fashionable  epistle  at  present  is  aiming 
to  be.  It  Avas  unsealed  and  had  no  stamp.  It  Av^as 
quite  crumpled  and  sort  of  dirty  and  begrimed. 
Outside  it  didn’t  show  its  real  worth,  so,  in  order 


WIT  AND  W1T8. 


61 


\ 

to  better  appreciate  it,  one  of  the  hands  opened  it 
and  read  the  inclosure.  It  was  just  what  might 
have  been  expected — a real  ardent  southern  kind 
of  a letter,  burning  with  the  I’d-like-to-eat-you-up 
kind  of  love,  although,  as  a matter  of  fact,  written 
in  December.  Its  writer  was  evidently  an  employe 
on  the  train  on  which  the  bale  of  cotton  with  its 
fellows  was  journeying  to  the  seaboard.  It  called 
his  ducky-dear  to  account  for  certain  alleged  little 
acts  of  coldness,  but  was  in  the  main  very  compli- 
mentary to  her  beauty,  her  common  sense,  the  size 
of  her  foot,  and  the  style  of  her  new  winter  bonnet. 

It  appointed  the  following  Saturday  evening  for 
a call  and  was  confident  that  she  would  be  glad  to 
see  him.  Everything  was  to  be  found  in  the  letter 
required  in  such  an  epistle.  There  is  no  need  to 
describe  it.  Our  readers  of  a larger  growth  know 
about  these  things  by  experience,  others  by  intui- 
tion. We  may  add  that  few  sweeter  things  ever 
reached  the  maturity  of  stamp  and  envelope  than 
this. 

When  the  hands  had  discussed  it  they  began  to 
appreciate  that  perhaps  the  card-room  might  still 
be  a postoffice  of  delivery,  and  so  one  man  inclosed 
it  in  a note,  relating  the  manner  of  its  discovery, 
another  with  cleaner  hands  than  the  rest  lapped 
the  dextrine  on  the  envelope  and  slapped  it  down, 
and  another  produced  a stamp,  and  the  letter  was 


62 


THE  W0BLH8 


dropped  into  the  postofiS^e  and  forgotten. 

A few  days  ago,  however,  came  the  sequel.  A 
neatly  written  letter  was  received  in  the  Andro- 
scroggin  card-room  from  the  “Alabamy”  girl.  She 
thanked  everybody  sincerely  for  the  care  they  had 
taken  of  her  letter,  and  she  added:  “If  you  ever 
come  our  way  drop  in  and  see  us.  We  will  he 
right  glad  to  see  you  and  will  thank  you  in  the 
bargain.” 

It  is  supposed  that  the  absent-minded  lover  stuck 
the  letter  into  a cotton  bale  while  about  his  train 
work  and  couldn’t  find  it  again,  and  so  the  letter 
sailed  the  seas  over  into  Maine,  came  miles  by  rail, 
ascended  into  the  region  of  dust  in  a card-room  of 
a Lewiston  cotton-mill,  and  then  after  four  months 
of  travel  found  its  way  back  to  the  hands  of  the 
maiden  of  its  love. 

SGINITILLiATIONS. 

An  unmixed  evil — Whisky  straight. 

The  oyster  persistently  refuses  to  respond  to  an 
encore. 

We  trust  the  hand-organ  man  will  insist  on  eight 
hours  as  a full  day’s  work. 

' One  industry  remains  to  the  poor  Indian — that 
of  ticket-scalper  to  an  immigrant  train. 

“Is  that  the  rebel  yell?”  asked  an  Ohioan  in 
front  of  the  Kimball  house. 


I 

t. 

z 


y 

r 

It 


WHEN  THE  SHINGLE  IS  HOT. 


P.  63. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


63 


‘‘No,”  replied  a courteous  colonel,  “it  is  only  an 
ice-cream  cake  man.” — Atlanta  Constitution. 

The  fish  have  quieted  down  a little  in  the  river, 
and  no  longer  crowd  one  another  out  on  the  banks 
and  frighten  the  children.  Still  good  fishing,  how- 
ever— Estelline  (D.  T.)  ^ell. 

It  is  said  that  shingles  may  be  made  fire-proof, 
but  you  cannot  convince  the  small  boy  who  has  had 
any  experience  that  a shingle  is  not  frequently 
red  hot. 

Frederick  Schwatka  is  lecturing  on  “Arctic 
Tight  Pinches.”  That  is  a singular  subject.  It 
isn’t  the  arctic  that  does  the  pinching  with  us:  it’s 
the  confounded  shoe. 

A dude  has  sued  a skating-rink  owner  for  a lost 
cane.  Such  an  exhibition  of  courage  leads  to  the 
dark  suspicion  that  the  dude  swallowed  it  and  so 
acquired  a temporary  spine. 

A citizen  of  Buffalo  inquires:  “Why  cannot  we 
have  a subterranean  hotel  at  Niagara;  underneath 
the  American  falls?”  Probably  because  that  would 
be  running  the  hotel  business  into  the  ground. 

It  is  well  to  inculcate  habits  of  economy  in  your 
children  by  giving  them  a toy  savings-bank  and 
teaching  them  to  save  up  all  their  spare  pennies. 
Besides,  you  will  find  the  bank  convenient  to  bor- 


64 


THE  W0RLH8 


row  from  at  a low  rate  of  interest  when  you  get 
hard  up  yourself. 

Chicago  proposes  to  celebrate  the  400th  anniver- 
sary of  the  discovery  of  America  by  holding  a 
world’s  fair.  This  is  eminently  proper.  It  is 
pretty  generally  understood  by  this  time  that  the 
principal  object  of  Columbus  in  discovering  Amer- 
ica was  to  fin'd  a place  large  enough  to  hold  Chica- 
go.— Norristoivn  Herald. 

An  editor  returning  home  one  morning  about  8 
o’clock,  was  met  in  the  hall  by  his  vigilant  spouse. 
“Alas,”  she  said,  “that  you  have  been  detained  by 
another  breakage  of  the  press!”  “Nay,  not  so,”  he 
rephed;  “neither  has  the  press  broken  down  nor 
have  I been  detained  by  getting  out  the  weekly, 
but  it  was  a small  game  of  10-cent  ante  which  hin- 
dered me.”  Hearing  which,  the  soul  of  George 
Washington  turned  over  in  his  grave  and  muttered 
a silent  benediction. 

A young  gentleman  home  for  the  hohdays  was 
talking  with  an  old  laborer  at  work  in  his  father’s 
grounds,  when  the  old  man  said;  “Ay,  ay,  sir,  ’tis 
a fine  thing  is  lamin’.  There  was  no  such  when  I 
was  a boy;  I was  a big  fellow  helpin’  the  family, 
when  all  at  once  school  broke  out.” 

A certain  Irish  M.  P.  had  been  describing  his 
travels  in  the  far  west  and  the  “virgin  forest”  there. 


mT  AND  WITS. 


65 


‘^What  is  a virgin  forest?”  asked  an  auditor. 
‘‘Phwat  is  a vairgin  forest  is  it  ye  whant  to  know? 
A vairgin  forest,  sorr,  is  one  pliwere  the  hand  o’ 
man  has  niver  set  fut,  bedad!” 

Extract  from  an  oration  delivered  at  the  inaug- 
uration of  a statue  by  M.  Duclaud,  member  for  the 
Charente:  ‘^Yes,  gentlemen,  Eabelais  was  one  of 
the  men  whose  form  and  face  deserved  to  be  pre- 
served in  molten  marble  for  the  admiration  of 
posterity.” 

A hotel  boaster,  who  was  vaunting  his  knowledge 
of  the  world  before  a crowd  of  new-comers,  was 
asked  by  a wag  at  his  elbow  if  he  had  ever  been  in 
Algebra.  “Oh  yes,  certainly,”  said  he,  “I  passed 
through  there  on  top  of  a stage  about  a year  ago.” 

Teacher : “Define  the  word  excavate.”  Scholar : 
“It  means  to  hollow  out.”  Teacher:  Construct  a 
sentence  in  which  the  word  is  properly  used.” 
Scholar:  “The  baby  excavates  when  it  gets  hurt.” 

When  things  come  to  such  a pass  in  Idaho  that 
men  are  shot  by  an  angry  boarding-house-keeper 
just  because  they  refuse  to  eat  his  fishballs,  we 
don’t  wonder  that  young  Lochinvar  came  out  of 
the  west. 

“It  was  terribly  oppressive  at  the  theatre  last 
night,”  said  Brown;  “it  was  so  hot  that  the  blood 
all  rushed  to  my  head.”  “WeU,  it  found  plenty  of 

5 


6G 


TIIK  WORLD^S 


room  there,  didn’t  it?”  replied  the  unsympathetic 
Fogg. 

Lightning  recently  struck  a telegraph  pole  and 
ran  along  a wire  into  the  office  at  Coatsville,  Ind., 
when  the  clerk  seated  at  the  instrument,  excitedly 
telegraphed  back.  “Don’t  send  so  fast!” 

Said  a miserable  little  Cincinnati  boy,  who  had 
just"  received  a scolding  from  his  father;  “Ma, 
I wish  I’d  never  been  born.”  “Why,  Charley?” 
‘‘Well,  I think  I’d  been  a better  boy.” 

“You  see  my  child,  this  turtle — one  of  the  won- 
ders of  creation — he  furnishes  the  best  combs  that 
are  made  and  yet  he  can  not  use  one,  as  he  hasn’t 
a single 'hair  to  comb.” 

©aliped  too  (Dugh. 

SAD  EXPEEIENCE  OF  AN  AMBITIOUS  DRUMMEE  ON  A 
COUNTRY  ROAD. 

An  ambitious  young  commercial  tourist  living  in 
one  of  the  cities  on  the  middle  Hudson  became 
acquainted  with  a young  lady  attending  a well 
known  seminary,  whose  father  is  an  influential 
citizen  of  one  of  the  Washington  county  towns  and 
is  reputed  to  have  a solid  bank  account,  says  the 
Albany  Argus.  Having  progressed  in  his  acquaint- 
ance with  the  young  lady  so  far  as  to  seek  and 


THE  REBEL  YELL. 


P.  62. 


VI 


I 

; - ' ’r 

, if  >..i  1-— 


/ 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


67 


receive  an  invitation  to  visit  her  at  her  home  dur- 
ing her  school  vacation,  he  essayed  to  risk  the 
danger  that  might  attend  his  reception  at  the  pa- 
ternal domicile.  Having  engaged  the  fastest  trot- 
ters and  the  nattiest  turnout  of  the  village  livery- 
man our  tourist  set  out. 

The  ride  was  about  six  miles,  and  after  he  had 
journeyed  about  half  that  distance  he  overtook  a 
pedestrian  and  inquired  if  he  was  “on  the  right  road 
to  Mr.  Smith’s  farmhouse?”  Eeceiving  an  affirma- 
tive reply,  the  drummer  asked  the  farmer  to  ride. 
The  latter  got  in  the  buggy,  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
seated  the  young  man  pulled  out  his  flask  and 
asked  his  new-made  friend  to  imbibe.  It  was  de- 
clined, and  the  proffered  cigar  elife'ited  the  response 
that  he  neither  drank  liquor  nor  smoked  nor 
chewed  tobacco.  To  this  the  sharp  young  man 
rejoined  by  avowing  his  belief  that  there  never  was 
a man  hut  what  was  addicted  to  some  of  the  vices. 
Meeting  with  no  contradiction  on  this  topic,  he 
inquired  of  the  stranger  if  he  knew  Mr.  Smith  and 
his  standing  in  the  community. 

“Yes,”  replied  he,  “I  know  him  very  well,  and  I 
think  he  is  quite  fair  with  his  townsmen.” 

“He’s  well  hooked  up,, ain’t  he?” 

“Well,  he  owns  one  of  tlie  best  farms  in  the  town, 
and  he  j)rides  himstif  on  his  stock.” 

“He  has  a daughter?” 


68 


THE  WORTHS 


“Yes,  three  of  them.” 

“Well,  I mean  the  one  that  is  at  school  in ? 

I have  met  her  and  am  invited  by  her  to  call  and 
spend  the  evening.” 

“Ah,  is  that  so?  She  is  an  excellent  girl.” 

“Well,  she  is  clear  mashed  on  me,  and  I intend 
to  do  my  level  best  tohnarry  her  and  get  a share  of 
the  old  man’s  money  to  set  me  up  in  business. 
Don’t  you  think  that  a bright  business  idea?” 

“Well,  as  I said,  she  is  a good  girl,  and  one  that 
loves  her  father  dearly,  and  obeys  him  in  every- 
thing. You  could  not  obtain  her  hand  without  the 
father’s  consent.” 

“I’ll  see  about  that.  I’d  give  more  to  obtain 
the  daughter’s  than  the  old  man’s  consent,”  replied 
the  impetuous  but  undiscerning  young  fellow. 

At  this  moment  they  were  approaching  a stately 
farm  house,  and  as  they  reached  its  front  the  far- 
mer said:  “I  live  here,  and  will  get  out,  if  you 
please.” 

The  commercial  man  gently  halted  the  trotters, 
and,  as  the  old  gentleman  reached  the  ground,  he 
said  to  him : “Now,  how  much  farther  is  it  to  Mr. 
Smith’s?” 

“I  am  Mr.  Smith,  sir, ’’replied  the  farmer,  sternly, 
“and  you  can  drive  on,  for  I will  not  permit  you  to 
step  on  my  premises.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


69 


©WAIN  ON  BEEGHEI^. 

MR.  Beecher’s  phenomenal  experience  in  agricul- 
tural PURSUITS RISING  FROM  AFFLUENCE 

TO  POVERTY. 

The  great  preacher  never  sleeps  with  his  clothes 
on.  Once,  when  remonstrated  with  upon  the  sing- 
ularity of  his  conduct  in  this  respect,  and  the 
pernicious  effect  the  example  might  possibly  have 
upon  the  younger  members  of  his  congregation,  he 
replied  with  the  frank  and  open  candor  that  has 
always  characterized  him,  that  he  would  give 
worlds  to  be  able  to  rid  himself  of  the  custom — and 
added  that  the  anguish  he  had  suffered  in  trying  to 
break  himself  of  the  habit  had  made  him  old  before 
he  was  90.  Mr.  Beecher  never  wears  his  hat  at 
dinner.  He  does  not  consider  it  healthy.  It  does 
not  immediately  break  down  one’s  constitution,  but 
is  slow  and  sure.  He  knows  one  case  where  a man 
persisted  in  the  habit,  in  spite  of  the  tears  and  en- 
treaties of  his  friends,  until  it  was  too  late,  and  he 
reaped  the  due  reward  of  his  rashness — for  it 
carried  him  off  at  last,  at  the  age  of  106.  Had 
that  man  listened  to  reason,  he  might  have  lived 
to  be  a comfort  to  his  parents  and  a solace  to  their 
declining  years. 

Mr.  Beecher  never  swears.  In  all  his  life  a pro- 
fane expression  has  never  passed  his  lips.  But  if 


70 


THE  WORLD^S 


he  were  to  take  it  into  his  head  to  try  it  once,  he 
would  make  even  that  disgusting  habit  seem  beau- 
tiful— he  w^ould  handle  it  as  it  never  was  handled 
before,  and  if  there  was  a wholesome  moral  lesson 
hidden  away  in  it  anywhere  he  would  ferret  it  out 
and  use  it  with  tremendous  effect.  Panophed  with 
his  grand  endowment — his  judgment,  his  discrimi- 
nating taste,  his  felicity  of  expression,  his  graceful 
fancy — if  Mr.  Beecher  had  a mind  to  swear  he 
could  throw  into  it  an  amount  of  poetry  and  pathos, 
and  splendid  imagery  and  moving  earnestness,  and 
restless  energy,  topped  off  and  climaxed  with  a 
gorgeous  pyrotechnic  conflagration  and  filigree  and 
fancy  swearing  that  would  astonish  and  delight  the 
hearer,  and  forever  after  quiver  through  his  bewil- 
dered memory  an  exquisite  confusion  of  rainbows 
and  music,  and  thunder  and  lightning.  A man  of 
high  order  of  intellect  and  appreciation  could  sit 
and  listen  to  Mr.  Beecher  swear  for  a week  without 
getting  tired. 

Mr.  Beecher  is  very  regular  in  his  habits.  He 
always  goes  to  bed  promptly  between  9 and  3 
o’clock,  and  never  upon  any  account  allows  himself 
to  vary  from  this  rule.  He  is  just  as  particular 
about  getting  up,  which  he  does  the  next  day,  gen- 
erally. He  considers  that  to  this  discipline,  and  to 
this  alone,  he  is  indebted  for  the  rugged  health  he 
has  enjoyed  ever  since  he  adopted  it. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


71 


Mr.  Beecher  does  not  go  around  and  get  adver- 
tisements for  The  Plymouth  Pulpit.  If  he  does  it, 
it  is  without  our  knowledge  or  consent.  If  such  a 
report  has  been  started,  it  is  an  absolute  duty  to 
refute  it  in  this  article.  However,  no  such  report 
has  yet  been  heard  of,  and  therefore  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  do  more  than  refute  it  in  a purely  general 
way  at  this  time.  Mr.  Beecher  could  augment  the 
hulk  of  the  phamplet  to  which  his  sermons  are 
attached  if  he  chose  to  go  around  and  solicit  such 
a thing.  He  has  no  time  for  such  recreation.  He 
has  to  preach,  and  he  has  to  make  dedication 
speeches  for  all  sorts  of  things,  and  he  is  obliged  to 
make  a few  remarks  on  nearly  all  distinguished 
occasions,  because  very  often  other  men  are  busy 
and  cannot  come.  And  besides,  he  has  to  carry  on 
his  farm. 

Mr.  Beecher’s  farm  consists  of  thirty- six  acres, 
and  is  carried  on  on  strict  scientific  principles.  He 
never  puts  in  any  part  of  a crop  without  consult- 
ing his  book.  He  plows,  and  reaps,  and  digs,  and 
sows  according  to  the  best  authorities — and  the 
authorities  cost  more  than  the  other  farming  imple- 
ments do.  As  soon  as  the  library  is  complete  the 
farm  will  begin  to  be  a profitable  investment.  But 
book  farming  has  its  drawbacks.  Upon  one  occa- 
sion, where  it  seemed  morally  certain  that  the  hay 
onght  to  be  cut,  the  hay  book  could  not  be  found 


72 


THE  WORTHS 


— and  before  it  was  found  it  was  too  late  and  the 
hay  was  all  spoiled. 

Mr.  Beecher  raises  some  of  the  finest  crops  of 
wheat  in  the  country,  but  the  unfavorable  differ- 
ence between  the  cost  of  producing  it  and  its  mar- 
ket value  after  it  is  produced,  has  interfered 
considerably  with  its  success  as  a commercial 
enterprise.  His  special  weakness  is  hogs,  however. 
He  considers  hogs  the  best  game  a farm  produces. 
He  buys  the  original  pig  for  $1.50,  and  feeds  him 
$40  worth  of  corn,  and  them  sells  him  for  about 
$9.  This  is  the  only  crop  he  ever  makes  any 
money  on.  He  loses. ^pn  the  corn,  but  he  makes 
$7.50  on  the  hog.  He  does  not  mind  this  because 
he  never  expects  to  make  anything  on  corn,  any- 
way. And  any  way  it  turns  out,  he  has  the 
excitement  of  raising  the  hog  anyhow,  whether  he 
gets  the  worth  of  him  or  not.  His  strawberries 
would  be  a comfortable  success  if  the  robins  would 
eat  turnips,  but  they  won’t,  and  hence  the  diffi- 
culty. 

One  of  Mr.  Beecher’s  most  harassing  difficulties 
in  his  farming  operations  comes  of  the  close  resem- 
blance of  different  sorts  of  seeds  and  plants  to  each 
other.  Two  years  ago  his  far-sightedness  warned 
him  that  there  was  going  to  be  a great  scarcity  of 
water-melons,  and  therefore  he  put  in  a crop  of 
twenty- seven  acres  of  that  fruit.  But  when  they 


( ? -r-’E 


MARK  TWAIN  ON  BEECHER. 


P-  73 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


73 


came  up  they  turned  out  to  he  pumpkins,  and  a 
dead  loss  was  the  consequence.  Sometimes  a por- 
tion of  his  crop  goes  into  the  ground  the  most 
promising  sweet  potatoes,  and  comes  up  the  infer- 
nalest  carrots — though  I never  have  heard  him 
express  it  in  just  that  way.  When  he  bought  his 
farm  he  found  one  egg  in  every  hen’s  nest  on  the 
place.  He  said  that  here  was  just  the  reason  why 
so  many  farmers  failed — they  scattered  their  forces 
too  much — concentration  was  the  idea.  So  he 
gathered  those  eggs  together  and  put  them  all  un- 
der one  experienced  old  hen.  That  hen  roosted 
over  that  contract  night  and  day  for  eleven  weeks, 
under  the  anxious  personal  supervision  of  Mr. 
Beecher  himself,  but  she  could  not  ‘‘phase”  those 
eggs.  Why?  Because  they  were  those  infamous 
porcelain  things  which  are  used  by  ingenious  and 
fraudulent  farmers  as  “nest  eggs.”  But  perhaps 
Mr.  Beecher’s  most  disastrous  experience  was  the 
time  he  tried  to  raise  an  immense  crop  of  dried 
apples.  He  planted  $1,500  worth,  hut  never  a one 
of  them  sprouted.  He  has  never  been  able  to  un- 
derstand, to  this  day,  what  was  the  matter  with 
those  apples. 

Mr.  Beecher’s  farm  is  not  a triumph.  It  would 
be  easier  on  liini  if  lie  worked  it  on  shares  with 
some  one;  hut  lie  can  not  find  anybody  who  is 
willing  to  stand  half  the  expense,  and  not  many 


74 


THE  ^Y0RLD^8 


that  are  able.  Still,  persistence  in  any  case  is 
bound  to  succeed.  He  was  a very  inferior  farmer 
when  be  first  began,  but  a prolonged  and  unflinch- 
ing assualt  upon  bis  agricultural  difiiculties  has  bad 
its  effect  at  last,  and  .be  is  now  fast  rising  from 
affluence  to  poverty. 

I shall  not  say  anything  about  Mr.  Beecher’s 
sermons.  They  breathe  the  truest  and  purest  spirit 
of  religion ; they  are  models  of  pulpit  oratory,  and 
they  are  proofs  that  the  subject  which  is  the  nearest 
to  the  interests  of  mankind  can  be  put  to  nobler 
uses  than  the  chloroforming  of  congregations.  Mr. 
Beecher  has  done  more  than  any  other  man,  per- 
haps, to  inspire  religion  with  the' progressive  spirit 
of  the  nineteenth  century  and  make  it  keep  step 
with  the  march  of  intellectual  achievement  and  the 
general  growth  of  men’s  charities  and  impulses.  It 
is  such  men  as  Beecher  that  persuade  religious 
communities  to  progress  to  something  better  than 
witch-burning  when  the  spirit  of  the  time  pro- 
gresses from  ox-wagons  to  stage-coaches,  and  by 
and  by  to  steamboats;  and  who  persuade  such 
communities  to  progress  beyond  the  indorsing  of 
slavery  with  their  Bibles  when  the  spirit  of  the 
time  progresses  to  the  subordination  of  the  steam- 
boat to  the  railroad,  and  the  discarding  of  pony- 
expresses  for  the  telegraph.  He  has  done  as  much 
as  any  man  to  keep  the  people  from  reading  their 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


75 


Bibles  by  the  interpretation  of  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury while  they  were  living  far  along  in  the  nine- 
teenth. His  name  will  live.  His  deeds  will  honor 
his  memory.  He  has  set  his  mark  upon  his  epoch, 
and  years  hence,  when  the  people  turn  over  the 
bales  and  bundles  of  this  generation’s  ideas,  they 
will  find  “H.  W.  B.”  stenciled  on  a good  many  of 
them. 


©HAT  DI^BADPUL 

“There  is  a sad  state  of  affairs  in  Eussia,”  ob- 
served Mr.  Snaggs  last  night.  “There  has  been  an 
increase  of  300  per  cent,  in  the  number  of  suicides 
in  the  last  ten  years.” 

“What  is  the  cause?”  asked  Mrs.  Snaggs. 

“It  is  attributed  largely  to  pessimism.” 

“That  dreadful  drink.  I wonder  the  people  don’t 
sign  the  pledge.” 

©Ei^HAPs  Hot. 

De  Baggs — Strange  young  woman,  that  friend 
of  yours.  Very  strong-minded,  is  she  not? 

Litewaite — Extremely  so.  But  she  is  going  to 
be  married. 

“You  surprise  me!  Who  is  the  unfortunate 
man?” 

“Ponsonby  of  our  set.” 

“Indeed!  Does — does  he  know  it?” 


THE  WORLb^S 


Gbnbi^ous  SisTBr^. 

“I  think,”  said  Christina  to  Florence, 

(Floy  was  seven  and  Chrissie  just  five,) 
“That,  really  and  truly,  I’m  one  of 
The  best  httle  sisters  ahve.” 

“And  why  do  you  think  so?”  asked  Florence; 
• “Because,”  said  the  curly-haired  elf, 

“I  give  you,  and  give  you  contin’ly. 

All  the  things  that  I don’t  want  myself;” 


• 06HOBS  OP  THB  fflOr^GAN  SALB. 

“Isn’t  that  a peachlow  vase?” 

“Yes.” 

“Buy  it  at  the  Morgan  sale?” 

“No;  got  it  at  Macy’s  bargain  counter  for  forty- 
nine  cents.” 


“That  is  a new  picture,  is  it  not.  Miss  Bulb  on?” 
“Yes,  oh,  yes,  indeed.  It  came  from  the  Morgan 
sale.” 

“Who  is  the  artist?” 

“WeU,  weU,  I quite  forget  his  name.” 

“What  subject  does  it  represent?” 

“I’m  sure  I don’t  know,  but  it  cost  pa  $10,000. 
Isn’t  it  a masterpiece?” 

“It  is  indeed.” 


“IT  COST  PA  $10,000. 


P.  76. 


( - " 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


^Ohaip’s  in  a Hams?. 

Kaids  upon  Chinese  opium  dens  last  night 
brought  to  the  front  Messrs.  Ah  Good  and  Long 
Sin,  who  confined  their  claims  to  the  friendship  of 
the  pig-eyed  smokers  by  bailing  them  out  of  jail. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  Sin  should  be  found  in  a 
den,  but  this  is  one  of  the  first  instances  of  the  dis- 
covery of  Good  in  a celestial  joint. 


Spaf;ing  Y}is  Feelings. 

First  Boston  Novelist— Don’t  you  become  greatly 
attached  to  some  of  your  most  favorite  characters, 
and  sympathize  with  them  ? 

Second  Boston  Novehst — Oh,  yes,  but  whenever 
my  sympathies  become  overwrought,  I always  kiU 
the  poor  characters  and  put  myself  out  of  misery. 
— Merchant  Traveler. 


©HE-eUPPY  WAS  r)UNGI^Y. 

A lady  entered^ a Broadway  car  holding  in  her 
arms  a rather  bony  terrier.  She  sat  down  by  the 
side  of  a good  natured-looking  Irishman,  toward 
whom  the  dog  began  to  struggle.  The  man  edged 
away  as  far  as  he  could,  when  the  lady  to  assure 
him  said  sweetly: 


78 


THE  WORTHS 


“Don’t  be  afraid,  sir.  He’s  very  gentle;  he’ll 
not  ^hurt  you.”  • - 

“I  know  it,  ma’am,  shure  I know  it,”  replied  he; 
“the  raison  I moved,  ma’am,  was  because  I thought 
he  might  hurt  -a  sandwich  which  I have  in  me 
pocket.” 

The  other  passengers  laughed,  but  the  lady 
poutingly  seemed  to  feel  that  the  prominent  rites 
of  her  pet  had  been  satirized. 


©I^UB  I^BWAF^DBD. 

STYLE  OF  SCHOOL  LITEKATUKE  KNOWN  THIKTY  YEAES  AGO. 

ONE  OF  BILL  NYE’s  SELECTIONS,  WEITTEN  BY  HIMSELF . 

AEEANGED  WITH  SPECIAL  EEFEEENCE  TO  THE  MAT  TEE 
OF  CHOICE,  DELICATE  AND  DIFFICULT  WOEDS. 

/ " One  day  as  George  Oswald  was  going  to  his  tasks, 
and  while  passing  through  the  wood,  he  spied  a tall 
man  approaching  in  an  opposite  direction  along  the 
highway. 

‘^Ah,”  thought  George,  in  a low,  mellow  tone  of 
voice,  ‘^whom  have  we  here?”  ■ 

‘‘Good  morning,  my  fine  fellow,”  exclaimed  the 
stranger,  pleasantly.  “Do  you  reside  in  this  local- 
ity?” 

..“Indeed  I do,”  retorted  George,  cheerily,  drop- 
ping his  cap.  “In  yonder  cottage,  near  the  glen, 


THE  PUPPY  WAS  HUNGRY. 


P.  77. 


'>te 


15.  «• 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


79 


my  widowed  mother  and  her  thirteen  children  dwell 
with  me.” 

“And  how  did  your  papa  die?”  asked  the  man, 
as  he  thoughtfully  stood  on  the  other  foot  awhile. 

“Alas  sir,”  said  George,  as  a large  hot  tear  stole 
down  his  pale  cheek  and  fell  with  a loud  report  on 
the  warty  surface  of  his  bare  foot  “he  was  lost  at 
sea  in  a bitter  gale.  The  good  ship  foundered  two 
years  ago  last  Christmastide,  and  father  was  foun- 
dered at  the  same  time.  No  one  knew  of  the  loss 
of  the  ship  and  that  the  crew  was  drowned  until  the 
next  spring,  and  it  was  then  too  late.” 

“And  what  is  your  age,  my  fine  fellow?”  quoth 
the  stranger. 

“If  I live  until  next  October,”  said  the  boy,  in  a 
declamatory  tone  of  voice  suitable  for  a Second 
Keader,  “I  will  he  7 years  of  age.” 

A LAKOE  FAMILY  OF  CHILDEEN. 

“And  who  provides  for  your  mother  and  her  large 
family  of  children?”  queried  the  man. 

“Indeed,  I do,  sir,”  replied  George,  in  a shrill 
tone.  “I  toil,  oh,  so  hard,  sir,  for  we  are  very, 
very  poor,  and  since  my  elder  sister,  Ann,  was 
married  and  brought  her  husband  home  to  live  with 
IS  I have  to  toil  more  assidously  than  heretofore.” 

“And  by  what  means  do  you  obtain  a liveli- 
hood?” exclaimed  the  man,  in  slowly  measured 
and  grammatical  words. 


80 


THE  WORTHS 


“By  digging  wells,  kind  sir,”  replied  George, 
picking  up  a tired  ant  as  lie  spoke  and  stroking  it 
on  the  hack.  “I  have  a good  education,  and  so  I 
am  enabled  to  dig  wells  as  well  as  a man.  I do  this 
daytimes  and  take  in  washing  at  night.  In  this 
way  I am  enabled  to  maintain  our  family  in  a pre- 
carious manner;  hut,  oh,  sir,  should  my  other  sisters 
marry,  I fear  that  some  of  my  brothers-in-law  would 
have  to  suffer.” 

“You  are  indeed  a brave  lad,”  exclaimed  the 
stranger,  as  he  rejiressed  a smile.  “And  do  you 
not  at  times  become  very  weary  and  wish  for  other 
ways  of  passing  your  time?” 

“Indeed  I do  sir,”  said  the  lad.  “I  would  fain 
run  and  romj)  and  he  gay  hke  other  boys,  but  I 
must  engage  in  constant  manual  exercise,  or'  we 
will  have  no  bread  to  eat  and  I have  not  seen  a pie 
since  papa  perished  in  the  moist  and  moaning  sea.” 

SAVED  FROM  A HURRIED  GRAVE. 

“And  what  if  I were  to  tell  you  that  your  papa 
did  not  perish  at  sea,  but  was  saved  from  a hurried 
grave?”  asked  the  stranger  in  pleasing  tones. 

“Ah,  sir,”  exclaimed  George,  in  a genteel  man- 
ner, again  doffing  his  cap.  “I’m  too  pohte  to  tell 
you  what  I would  say,  and  beside,  sir,  you  are 
much  larger  than  I am.” 

“But  my  brave  lad,”  said  the  man  in  low  musi- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


81 


cal  tones,  you  not  know  me,  Georgie.  Oh, 
George!” 

“I  must  say,”  replied  George,  ‘^that  you  have 
the  advantage  of  me.  Whilst  I may  have  met  you 
before,  I can  not  at  this  moment  place  you,  sir.” 

‘‘My  son!  oh,  my  son!”  murmured  the  man,  at 
the  same  time  taking  a large  strawberry  mark  out 
of  the  valise  and  showing  it  to  the  lad.  “Do  you 
not  recognize  your  parent  on  your  father’s  side? 
When  our  good  ship  went  to  the  bottom,  all  per- 
ished save  me.  I swam  several  miles  through  the 
billows,  and  at  last,  utterly  exhausted,  gave  up  all 
hope  of  life.  Suddenly  a bright  idea  came  to  me 
and  I walked  out  of  the  sea  and  rested  myself. 

“And  now  my  brave  boy,”  exclaimed  the  man 
with  great  glee,  “see  what  I have  brought  for  you.” 
It  was  but  the  work  of  a moment  to  unclasp  from 
a shawl  strap,  which  he  held  in  his  hand,  and  pre- 
sent to  George’s  astonished  gaze,  a large  40  cent 
watermelon,  which  he  had  brought  with  him  from 
the  Orient. 

“Ah,”  said  George,  “this  is  indeed  a glad  sur- 
prise. Albeit,  how  can  I ever  repay  you?” — Bill 
Nye  in  Boston  Globe. 

, in  ©LAIMA’S  I?F^ESEN6E. 

“Do  you  like  winter,  Mr.  Litewaite?” 

6 


82 


THE  WORTHS 


“Not  very  much,  Freddie.” 

“Then  why  do  you  always  go  buggy-riding  on  a 
cold  day?” 

“I  don’t.  What  makes  you  think  so?” 

“Why,  sister  Clara  said  that  it  would  he  a cold 
day  when  you  offered  to  take  any  girl  buggy- 
riding.” 


Statistics. 

They  were  talking  about  expenses  and  how  some 
men  got  rich. 

Said  one:  “My  butcher  and  baker  have  made 
money  enough  out  of  me  to  build  themselves 
splendid  residences.” 

‘‘And,”  responded  the  other,  “the  barkeepers  I 
patronized  have  built  whole  blocks  out  of  what  I 
owe  them.” — Texas  Siftings. 


pN  GNTBI^PI^ISING  y^OUTH. 

This  is  not  the  only  enterprising  country  in  the 
world.  An  English  advertisements  reads  as  fol- 
lows : “A  young  man,  sober  and  rehahle,  who  has  a 
wooden  leg  and  cork  arm,  is  wilhng,  for  a moderate 
salary,  to  allow  his  false  hmhs  to  be  nriaimed  by 
wild  beasts  in  any  reputable  menagerie,  as  an  ad- 
vertisement. No  objection  to  traveling.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


83 


FJiddlb. 

I never  was  but  always  am  to  be ; 

None  ever  saw  me,  you  may  never  see; 

And  yet  I am  the  confidence  of  all 
Who  hve  and  breathe  on  this  terrestrial  ball. 
The  answer  is — To-morrow. 


Welsh  5aw-Bi^eai(ei^s. 

Welsh  names  are  proverbially  of  the  crack-jaw 
tendency ; but  perhaps  the  palm  may  be  given  to 
the  following,  which  casually  occurred  in  a conver- 
sation between  a Welsh  maiden  and  an  English 
visitor  in  a viUiage  at  the  foot  of  Snowden.  The 
visitor  inquired : 

What  is  the  name  of  your  little  cottage,  my 
dear? 

Welsh  girl — Lletyllifyllyfuwy,  sir. 

E.  V. — Oh.  And  are  your  parents  living? 

W.  G. — Yes,  sir ; but  my  father  works  at 
Dhwarel  Caebraichycafn. 

E.  Y. — Well,  well.  Any  brothers? 

W.  G. — Yes;  three,  sir.  One  at  Ehosilanerch- 
rugog,  one  at  Llanenddwyncwmllanddwywe,  and 
one  lives  between  Penmaenmawr  and  Llanfair- 
fochan. 

E.  V. — It’s  growing  worse,  I see.  How  many 
sisters. 


u 


THE  WORLHS 


W.  G. — Only  two,  sir.  One  is  with  my  aunt  at 
Llanfairmathafarneithaf. 

E.  Y. — My  word,  what  a name ! And  the  other? 
W.  G. — Oh,  she  is  in  service,  sir,  at  Llahfair- 
pwUgw^mgyllgogerychwyrndrobwllgertrobwillandy- 
siliogogogoch. 

This  agreeable  name  signifies:  “Llanfair,”  St. 
Mary  near;  ‘Twll  Gwyngyll,”  White  Hazel  Pond; 
“Goger,”  near;  “Y  Chwyra  Drobwll,”  near  the 
Whirl  Pool;  “Dysilio,”  Saint;  “Ogo,”  cavern;  “Go- 
go  Goch,”  ancient  hermit. 


IJT  WAS  Only  Ri^bddy. 

“Good  gracious,  Lil!  There  goes  one  of  the 
funny.clowns  we  saw  at  the  circus  out  in  the  street 
in  his  ring  clothes.” 

“You  silly  girl ! Any  one  could  tell  you  came 
from  the  country.  That  is  little  Freddy  Fahnstock 
in  his  new  spring  suit.” 


rpo  Give  Goloi^  to  It. 

Dog-Fancier — Well,  mum,  have  you  come  to 
buy  another  pup? 

Miss  Plantagenet — No,  sir,  not  exactly.  Mamma 
wished  to  know  if  you  would  exchange  this  dog  for 
a black-and-white  one.  He  is  just  as  good  as  new, 


r p - 


BEGORRA  ! YIS,  TACHE  THE  b’y  TO  SPAKE  AIRISH. 


P.  86. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


85 


and  we  are  going  into  half-mourning  next  week.— 
The  Bamhler. 


©HIS  Style  Only  i ©bnt. 

It  would  be  a cold  day  for  Ireland  if  she  should 
lose  her  Ulster. 

Johnny  says  he  is  his  mother’s  canoe,  and  she 
is  always  able  to  paddle  it. 

A Connecticut  man  was  divorced  one  day  and 
married  the  next.  The  greater  the  danger,  the 
greater  the  fascination  it  has  for  some  men. 

‘T  can’t  sing,”  said  the  young  lady  when  invited 
to  warble,  but  she  complied  upon  being  further 
pressed.  When  she  had  finished,  Fogg  thanked 
her  and  added,  soto  voce:  ‘T’ll  never  doubt  any- 
body’s word  again.” 

A pretty  New  York  female  thief  disguised  her- 
self as  a man,  and  the  detectives  were  unable  to 
find  her  because  she  had  schooled  herself  to  pass 
a millinery  store  without  stopping  to  peep  in  the 
window. 


©LASSIGAL  (SOUI^SE. 

Private  Tutor  (to  Mr.  Coshennigen,  a Harlem 
^capitalist) — Would  you  like  your  son  to  pursue  a 
classical  course,  sir? 


86 


TllK  WORLD^S 


Mr.  Coshennigen — Phat’s  that? 

Private  Tutor — It’s  a study  of  the  dead  lan- 
guages. 

Mr.  Coshennigen — Begorra!  yis,  tache  the  b’y  to 
spake  airish. 


IOHILiE  ©HEINE’S  BlPE  ©HEINE’S  l)OPE. 

Patient — I shall  leave  my  family  in  your  care, 
Hawkins,  and  shall  trust  you  to  see  that  they  do 
not  want. 

Friend — All  right,  old  fellow.  I’ll  see  to  ’em. 
Your  wife,  Marie,  and  I have  been  talking  over  our 
happy  future  for  some  time.  Sorry  you  won’t  be 
here  to  the  wedding,  old  fellow. 

Patient  (with  a feeling  that  he  may  still  recover) 
— Ah,  well;  we’ll  hope  for  the  best. 


©HAI^GING  POr?  eXTI^AS. 

“Shave?” 

“Yes,”  and  the  customer  drops  into  a chair.  The 
operation  was  performed  without  chloroform. 

“How  much?” 

“Fifteen  cents.” 

“But  I thought  this  was  a 10-cent  shop?” 

“It  is,  for  a plain  shave,  but  I happened  to  cut  a 
gash  in  your  chin  and  used  alum  on  it.  Five  cents 
extra  for  alum.” 


fc 


WHILE  there’s  life  THERE’S  HOPE. 


p.  86. 


4-' 


' / 


L*'^RA'^Y 
c"  : i 

v.r  .:il: 


•''•9 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


87 


©IF^BD  OF  FjAIIil^OADING. 

A DAEKEY  WHO  CAME  NEAE  BEING  A CONDUCTOE  THEOUGH 
THE  STEIKE. 

OPIE  P.  EEID. 

V”  ■-  ■ 

Old  Brockly  is  disgusted.  Having  spent  the 
most  of  his  life  on  a plantation,  but  having  grown 
tired  of  a life  so  slow  and  uneventful,  he  came  to 
town  several  days  ago  and  declared  his  intention  of 
engaging  in  some  kind  of  active  business. 

^‘Brockly,  have  you  found  work  yet?”  asked  the 
secretary  of  state,  upon  meeting  the  old  man. 

“Doan  talk  ter  me.  Mars’  Lias.  All  I wants  now 
is  ter  git  outen  dis  blamed  town,  fur  I’se  sick  o’  de 
place.” 

“Haven’t  the  people  treated  you  with  courtesy?” 

“Da  mout  o’  treated  me  wid  courtesy,  sah,  but 
da  hit  me  wid  er  brick,  an’  chunked  me,  and 
punched  me  wid  er  rail,  an’  cussed  me  an’  hurt 
mer  feelin’s.” 

“How  did  it  happen?” 

“Wall,  sah.  I’ll  tell  yer.  Shortly  arter  I got 
heah,  er  white  man  come  ter  me  an’  said  dat  he 
wanted  me  ter  he’p  run  er  freight  train.  Said  dat 
nearly  all  his  men  had  dun  went  er  fishin’  an’  wouldn’ 
be  back  fur  several  days.  Tole  me  dat  ef  I would 
come  on  an’  he’p  load  freight  dat  he  would  put  me 


88 


THE  WORLHS 


in  charge  o’er  train  in  a few  days.  . I thought  he 
was  de  fines’  man  I eber  seed,  an’  I didn’  see  why 
he  kep’  on  er  mimin’  arter  me,  when  dar  wuz  so 
many  idle  niggers  in  de  town,  but  den  I thought 
dat  he  was  sharp  ernuff  ter  see  all  my  good  p’ints, 
so  I says,  says  I : 

‘Gwine  ter  pay  me  well,  is  yer?’ 

‘Oh,  yas,  gin  yer  good  pay.’ 

“ ‘An  er  study  job  arter  de  uder  fellers  comes 
back  frum  er  fishin’?’ 

“ ‘Oh,  yas,  pay  yer  well  all  de  time.  I likes  yer 
looks,  ole  man,  an’  I thinks  dat  arter  while  you’ll 
make  a fust-rate  conductor  o’er  passenger  train.’ 

“ ‘Dar  ain’t  no  trouble  on  yer  road,  is  dar?” 

“He  laugli  an’  swore  dat  his  road  neber  had  no 
trouble.  Said  dat  he  wanted  me  ’ca’se  he  knowd 
I wuz  er  smart  man.  Yer  doan  know  how  good  it 
did  make  me  feel,  an’,  thinks  I,  ‘farewell  ter  de 
cotton  feel,  fur  I’se  gwine  ter  wuck  in  de  shade 
frum  dis  time  on.  Let  de  young  niggers  han’le  de 
mules,  fur  I’se  gwine  ter  be  er  big  man  o’er  rail- 
road, an’  make  dem  young  niggers  take  off  dar  hats 
ter  me  when  I goes  down  in  de  country  on  er  visit.’ 
Wall,  I went  down  ter  de  depot  wid  de  white  man. 
I seed  er  lot  er  white  men  an’  niggers  standin’ 
roun’,  an’  I wondered  why  da  wan’t  at  work  makin’ 
money,  but  when  I axed  de  white  man  he  said  da 
wuz  rich  jokers  dat  had  made  money  in  de  nigger 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


89 


minstrel  business;  because  dat  da  wouldn’  work, 
but  dat  da  made  fun  o’  eberybody  what  did.  He 
tole  me  ter  role  some  bar ’Is  o’  flour  whut  wus  on 
de  platfo’m  an’  put  ’em  on  er  freight  kyar.  ^Go 
er  head,’  says  he,  ‘an’  yer’ll  be  er  conductor  de  fust 
thing  yer  know.’  I went  ter  work,  an’  hadn’t  mor’n 
put  one  bar’l  on,  fo’  er  nigger  come  up  ter  me  an’ 
says,  says  he : 

“Go  on  erway  frum  he  ah  an’  let  dat  st^ff  er- 
lone.” 

“ ‘G’way  yerse’f,’  says  I,  ‘an’  let  me  erlone.  I’se 
gwine  ter  put  dis  stuff  on  de  kyar.’  He  went  er- 
way, but  putty  soon  heah  he  come  ergin,  wid  er 
whole  passul  o’  de  rich  minstrels  wid  him.  Da  tole 
me  dat  ef  I didn’  go  erway  da’d  make  me  feel  sorry, 
but  I laughed  at  ’em  an’  snatched  holt  o’er  bar’l. 
Jes  ’bout  dat  time,  bif,  er  brick  tuck  me  in  de  head. 
I fell  like  er  steer,  an’  de  fust  thing  I knowed  some 
feller  wuz  er  pun  chin’  me  wid  er  rail.  Er  nudder 
feller  tuck  up  er  piecer  plank,  an’  I thought  dat  he 
wuz  gwinh  ter  w’ar  me  bodaciously  out.  Da  kep’ 
er  axin’  me  ef  I’d  quit  work,  an’  ez  soon  ez  I could 
talk  I tole  ’em  dat  nuthin  would  gin  me  mo’  ’joy- 
ment.  When  I got  up  I looked  roun’  fur  de  white 
man  whut  had  sot  me  ter  work,  but  he  wa’n’t  no- 
whar  ter  be  found.  Putty  soon  I I’arned  dat  de 
whole  fo’ce  o’  de  road  wuz  on  er  strike.  Dis  made 
me  open  one  o’  mer  eyes — I couldn’t  open  de  udder 


90 


THE  WORTHS 


one — an’  I geddered  np  mer  ole  hat  an’  got  erway 
frum  dat  place.  Oh,  yes,  da  treated  me  wid  er 
whole  lot  o’  courtesy,  but  I doan  want  no  mo’.” 

“Going  back  to  the  plantation,  I suppose?” 

“Yes,  sail,  ef  de  Lawd  ’ul  let  me.  I'se  mighty 
tired  uv  bein’  a railroad  man.  De  hiznez  is  er 
little  too  libelyfur  er  man  o’  my  age.  When  I wuz 
er  young  man  I didn’  mine  being  chunked  erhttle, 
but  now  I doan  hke  it.  Look  at  dis  knot  on  mer 
head.  Big  ez  er  do’  knob,  ain’t  it.  Yas,  I fin’s 
cotton  safter  den  er  brickbat.  Now  lemme  hab  er 
quarter  an’  I’se  done  wid  yer.  Thankee,  sah. 
Good  day.” — Arkansaw  Traveler, 


“SOI^r^OWS  OP  I^BVIYBD. 

He — The  hours  which  I have  in  your  presence 
lived  have  belonged  to  the  happiest  of  my  life.  I 
depart  with  nameless  woe,  and  will  you  never  for- 
get. 

She — Noble  friend,  long  have  I struggled,  and 
would  gladly  have  spared  you  the  worst,  but 
I dare  not.  But  I must  you  let  go  without  conso- 
lation and  without  hope.  Forgive  me  that  from 
you  until  to-da}^  concealed  have  I what  I should 
have  revealed  long  since  already.  I — alas — I am 
married. 

He — So  am  I. — Fliegende  Blaetter. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


91 


fflUSIGAL  OBSBI^YAIFIONS. 

AETEMAS  WAKD. 

% 

My  orchestra  is  small,  but  I am  sure  it  is  very 
good,  so  far  as  it  goes.  I give  my  pianist  ten 
pounds  a night  and  his  washing. 

I like  music.  I can’t  sing.  As  a singist,  I am 
not  a success.  I am  saddest  when  I sing;  so  are 
those  who  hear  me ; they  are  sadder  even  than  I 
am.  The  other  night,  some  silveij voiced  young 
man  came  under  my  window,  and  sang,  “Come 
where  my  love  lies  dreaming.”  I didn’t  go;  I 
didn’t  think  it  would  be  correct. 


Isaac’s  ©astb  poi^  “©objih^y.” 

MKS.  PARTINGTON. 


“Does  Isaac  manifest  any  taste  for  poetry,  Mrs. 
Partington?”  asked  the  schoolmaster’s  wife  while 
conversing  on  the  merits  of  the  youthful  Parting- 
ton. 

The  old  lady  was  basting  a chicken  which  her 
friends  had  sent  her  from  the  country. 

“Oh,  yes!”  said  the  old  lady,  smiling;  “he  is 
very  partially  fond  of  poultry,  and  it  always  seems 
as  if  he  can’t  get  enough  of  it.” 


92 


THE  WORTHS 


The  old  spit  turned  by  the  fire-place  in  response 
to  her  answer,  while  the  basting  was  going  on. 

‘T  mean,”  said  the  lady,  “does  he  show  any  of 
the  divine  affiatus?” 

The  old  lady  thought  a moment. 

“As  for  the  divine  flatness,  I don’t  know  about 
it.  He’s  had  all  the  complaints  of  children;  and, 
when  he  was  a baby,  he  fell,  and  broke  the  cart- 
ridge of  his  nose;  hut’ll  hardly  think  he’s  had  this 
that  you  speak  «of.” 

The  roasting  chicken  hissed  and  spluttered,  and 
Mrs.  Partington  hasted  it  again. 


©HE  BiiTEI^  BI^JPEN. 

A certain  violin  maker  was  so  skillful  that  he 
could  perfectly  imitate  an  old  violin.  A viohnist, 
more  eminent  than  honest,  brought  him  a fine 
Cremona  and  said,  with  a wink:  “I  w^ant  you  to 
make  an  exact  copy  of  this  Amati.” 

The  maker  knew  who  owned  the  instrument,  and 
promised  to  have  the  duplicate  ready  in  two 
months.  At  that  time  the  violinist  returned,  paid 
the  price,  and  received  the  two  violins.  When  he 
arrived  home  and  examined  them,  he  found  them 
both  counterfeits.  Do  you  suppose  violence  was 
done  to  his  feelings  by  the  clever  imitator  having 
kept  the  true  Amati  for  himself? 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


93 


UlGJUIM  OF  OVEf^WOF^I^. 

“Patrick,”  called  a south  side  lady,  ‘‘have  you 
watered  the  flowers  in  the  conservatory  lately?” 

“Not  this  wake,  mum.” 

“Mercy  on  me!  What  do  you  mean  hy  such 
negligence?” 

“Sure,  mum,  I’ve  been  busy  every  minute  of  the 
time.  I couldn’t  find  a second  to  spare  for  carryin’ 
wather.  The  conservatory  will  he  the  death  of  me 
yet,  mum.’- 

“Why,  what  has  kept  you  so  busy,  I should  hke 
to  know?” 

“Pickin’  off  the  dead  leaves,  mum.” 


Baseball  ©frizes.  * 

For  losing  an  ear,  appointment  as  usher  in  the 
grand  stand. 

A broken  finger  joint,  lay  off  until  it  is  well. 

Scraping  skin  from  elbow  in  stealing  abase,  prom- 
ise of  an  increase  in  salary;  both  elbows,  two 
promises. 

Getting  second  on  a long  slide  (basement  of 
pants  must  remain  intact),  autographs  of  managers. 

For  having  wire  from  mask  driven  into  the  skull, 
loud  applause  from  directors ; for  getting  killed,  set 
of  resolutions,  without  frame,  to  relatives. 


94r 


THE  WO  BID'S 


For  twisting  the  ankle  in  trying  to  make  an 
impossible  play,  a monkey  wrench ; it  will  be  found 
a useful  implement  in  such  cases. 

Bruising  the  shins,  the  right  to  rub  them. 

For  losing  the  sight  of  the  eyes  in  trying  to 
catch  a fly  in  the  face  of  the  sun,  released,  with 
back  pay. 

For  having  spike  in  an  opponent’s  shoe  driven 
through  the  instep,  two  day’s  vacation. 

Having  teeth  knocked  out  and  continuing  play, 
the  privilege  of  being  called  “tough.” 

For  killing  a scorer,  a $1,000  United  States 
bond. 

For  kicking  against  the  umpire’s  decisions,  when 
he  is  known  to  be  ^rght,  two  shoes  from  a mule ; 
this  is  an  emblematic  trophy.  <» 

The  management,  in  offering  the  above  prizes, 
does  it  for  the  purpose  of  encouraging  the  players 
to  put  forth  their  best  endeavors,  as  by  doing  so 
the  games  will  be  more  entertaining ; and  with  the 
hope  that  the  dividends  will  be  larger  than  they 
otherwise  would  be. 


Heeded  ©range. 

“It’s  aU  very  well  for  you  rich  men  to  talk  about 
law  and  order,”  said  a young  enthusiast  to  a 
Chicago  millionaire,  “but  the  more  I study  the 


u 


fr 


"E 


“I’d  give  my  clothes  for  his  teeth.” 


P-  95- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


95 


more  I am  convinced  that  the  present  distribution 
of  wealth  is  entirely  wrong.” 

‘‘What  do  you  study?”  asked  the  millionaire,  who 
began  life  without  a cent  and  is  now  the  owner  of 
one  of  the  greatest  manufacturing  establishments 
in  the  west. 

“I  study  political  economy,  of  course.” 

“I  would  advise  you,  my  son,  to  adopt  a portion 
of  my  old  curriculum.  Perhaps  you  would  succeed 
better.” 

“Why,  what  did  you  study?” 

“Domestic  economy.” 


©HE  Rational  Game. 

Wife — Do  you  know  why  you  prefer  a game  of 
base-ball  to  the  theatre  ? 

Husband  (just  from  the  game) — Shertainly,  m’ 
dear  (hie).  It’s  more  exciting. 

Wife — Exactly.  You  can  go  out  nine  times  be- 
tween the  acts. 

Y}E  IOANIPED  the  ©EEIPH. 

“Ma,”  complained  Bobby,  “Tommy  Tuff  can 
whistle  through  his  teeth  so  you  can  hear  him  a 
mile.” 

“Yes,  Bobby,”  said  his  mother,  encouragingly, 
“but  Tommy’s  teeth  are  badly  broken  and  decayed, 


96 


THE  WORLDS S 


which  is  the  reason  he  can  whistle  through  them. 
Besides,  Bobby,  Tommy  hasn't  any  nice  new 
suit  of  clothes  like  you." 

‘T  don’t  care,"  responded  Bobby  doggedly,  “I’d 
give  him  my  suit  of  clothes  for  his  teeth  any  day.’' 


BiLiIi  r>YE  ON  THE  ©OV:  INDOSYI^Y. 

A COWBOY  COLLEGE  NEEDED  TO  EDUCATE  YOUNG  MEN  TO 
THIS  PROFESSION. 

Xo  one  can  go  through  the  wide  territory  of 
Montana  to-day  Muthout  being  strongly  impressed 
with  the  wonderful  growth  of  the  great  cattle  grow- 
ing and  grazing  industry  of  that  territory.  And 
yet  Montana  is  but  the  northern  extremity  of  the 
great  grazing  belt  which  hes  at  the  foot  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  extending  Rom  the  British 
possessions  on  the  north  to  the  Mexican  border  on 
the  south,  extending  eastward,  too,  as  far  as  the 
arable  lands  of  Dakota,  Nebraska  and  Kansas. 

Montana,  at  this  season  of  the  year,  is  the  para- 
dise of  the  sleek,  high-headed,  2-year-old  Texan 
steer,  with  his  tail  over  the  dashboard,  as  well  as 
the  stock  yearhng,  born  on  the  range,  beneath  the 
glorious  mountain  sky  and  under  the  auspices  of 
roundup  Xo.  21. 

I do  not  say  this  to  adverfise  the  stock  growing 
business,  because  it  is  aKeady  adverfised  too  much. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


97 


anyway.  So  many  millionaires  have  been  made 
with  “free  grass”  and  the  early-rising,  automatic 
branding  iron  that  every  man  in  the  United  States 
who  has  a cow  that  can  stand  the  journey  seems  to 
be  about  to  take  her  west  and  embark  in  business 
as  a cattle  king. 

But  let  me  warn  the  amateur  cow  man  that  in 
the  great  grazing  regions  it  takes  a good  many 
acres  of  thin  grass  to  maintain  the  adult  steer  in 
affluence  for  twelve  months,  and  the  great  pastures 
at  the  base  of  the  mountains  are  being  pretty  well 
tested.  Moreover,  I believe  that  these  great  con- 
ventions of  cattlemen,  where  free  grass  and  easily 
acquired  fortunes  are  naturally  advertised,  will  tend 
to  overstock  the  ranges  at  last  and  founder  the 
goose  that  now  lays  the  golden  egg.  This,  of 
course,  is  really  none  of  my  business,  but  if  I didn’t 
now  and  then  refer  to  matters  that  do  not  concern 
me  I would  be  regarded  as  reticent. 

My  intention,  however,  in  approaching  the  great 
cow  industry,  which,  by  the  way,  is  anything  but 
an  industry,  being  in  fact  more  like  the  seductive 
manner  whereby  a promissory  note  acquires  2 per 
cent,  per  month  without  even  stopping  to  spit  on 
its  hands,  was  to  refer  incidentally  to  the  proposi- 
tion of  an  English  friend  of  mine.  This  friend, 
seeing  at  once  the  great  magnitude  of  the  cow  in- 


7 


98 


THE  VCOELD^S 


diistry  and  the  necessity  for  more  and  more  cow- 
boys, has  suggested  the  idea  of  establishing  a 
cowboys’  college,  or  training  school,  for  self-made 
young  men  who  desire  to  become  accomphshed. 
The  average  Englishman  will  most  always  think  of 
something  that  nobody  else  would  naturally  think 
of.  Xow,  our  cattleman  would  have  gone  on  for 
years  with  his  great  steer  emporium  without  think- 
ing of  establisliing  an  institution  where  a poor  boy 
might  go  and  learn  to  rope  a d-^^ear-old  in  such  a 
way  as  to  throw  him  on  his  stomach  with  a sicken- 
ing thud. 

The  young  Maverick  savant  could  take  a 
kindergarten  course  in  the  study  of  cow  brands. 
Here  a wide  field  opens  up  to  the  scholar.  The 
adult  steer  in  the  great  realm  of  beef  is  now 
a walking  Chinese  wash  bill,  a Hindoo  poem  in  the 
original  junk  shop  alphabet,  a four-legged  Greek  in- 
scription, punctuated  with  jim-jams,  a stenograph- 
er’s notes  of  a riot,  a bird’s-e'ye  view  of  a prematui’e 
explosion  in  a hardware  store. 

The  cowboy  who  can  at  once  grapple  with  the 
great  problem  of  where  to  put  the  steer  with  ‘‘B 
bar  B”  on  left  shoulder,  “Key  circle  G”  on  left 
side,  “Heart  D Heart”  on  right  hip,  left  ear  crop, 
wattle  te  wattle,  and  seven  hands  round  with  “Dash 
B Dash”  on  right  shoulder  “vented,”  wattle  on 
dew  lap  vented,  and  “P.  D.  Q.,”  “C.  0.  D.,”  and 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


99 


G.”  vented  on  right  side,  keeping  track  of  trans- 
-fers,  range  and  postoffice  of  last  owner,  has  certain- 
ly got  a future,  which  lies  mostly  ahead  of  him. 

But  now  that  the  idea  has  been  turned  loose,  I 
shall  look  forward  to  the  time  when  wealthly  men 
who  have  been  in  the  habit  of  dying  and  leaving 
their  money  to  other  institutions,  will  meet  with  a 
change  of  heart,  and  begin  to  endow  the  cowboys’ 
college,  and  the  Maverick  hotbed  of  broncho 
sciences. 

We  live  in  an  age  of  rapid  advancement  in  all 
branches  of  learning,  and  people  who  do  not  rise 
early  in  the  morning  will  not  retain  their  position 
in  the  procession.  I look  forward  with  confidence 
to  the  day  when  no  cowboy  will  undertake  to  ride 
the  range  without  a diploma.  Educated  labor  is 
what  we  need.  Cowboys  who  can  tell  you  in  scien- 
tific terms  why  it  is  always  the  biggest  steer  that 
eats  “pigeon  weed”  in  the  spring  and  why  he 
should  swell  up  and  bust  on  a rising  Chicago  mar- 
ket. 

I hope  that  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  in  the 
holster  of  the  cowboy  we  will  find  the  Iliad  instead 
of  the  killiad,  the  unabridged  dictionary  instead  of 
Mr.  Eemington’s  great  work  on  homicide.  As  it 
is  now  on  the  ranges  you  might  ride  till  your 
Mexican  saddle  ached  before  you  would  find  a cow- 
boy who  carries  a dictionary  with  him.  For  that 


100 


THE  WORLHS 


reason  the  language  used  on  the  general  round-up 
is  at  times  grammatically  incorrect,  and  many  of, 
our  leading  cowboys  spell  “cavvy-yard”  with  a “k.” 

A college  for  riding,  roping,  branding,  cutting 
out,  corralling,  loading  and  unloading,  and  handling 
cattle  generally,  would  be  a great  boon  to  our 
young  men,  who  are  at  present  groping  in  dark  and 
pitiable  ignorance  of  the  habits  of  the  untutored 
cow.  Let  the  young  man  first  learn  how  to  sit  up 
three  nights  in  succession,  through  a had  March 
snow  storm  and  “hold”  a herd  of  restless  cattle. 
Let  him  then  ride  through  the  hot  sun  and  alkali 
dust  a week  or  two,  subsisting  on  a chunk  of  dis- 
agreeable side  pork  just  large  enough  to  bait  a trap. 
Then  let  his  horse  fall  on  him  and  injure  his  con- 
stitution and  preamble.  All  these  things  would 
give  the  cow  student  an  idea  of  how  to  ride  the 
range.  The  amateur  who  has- never  tried  to  ride  a 
skittish  and  sulky  range  has  still  a great  deal  to 
learn. 

Perhaps  I have  said  too  much  on  this  subject,  but 
when  I get  thoroughly  awakened  on  this  great 
porterhouse  steak  problem  I am  apt  to  carry  the 
matter  too  far. 

OVEI^HEAI^D  IN  DUDEDOM.  • 

“Why,  Awthaw,  what  makes  youah  hand  twem- 
ble  so?” 


^¥1T  AND  WITS. 


101 


“Does  it  twemble?” 

“It  quivaws  like  a what  dy’e  call  it  twee,  deah 
boy,  upon  me  soul  it  does.” 

“Well,  no  wondaw.  I’ve  just  had  a feawful  set 
back.  Only  think  of  it,  a fellaw  spoke  to  me  in  the 
stweet  that  I don’t  know;  nevaw  saw  him  in  me 
life  befaw.  I give  you  me  honaw  I didn’t,  and  he 
had  the  awdacity  to  stop  me  and  awsk  faw  a light 
faw  his  cigawette.” 


fiN  UNAGGOMMODAITING  gOSiFMASTBI^. 

“You  seem  unhappy,”  ventured  a hotel  loiterer 
to  a glum-looking  citizen  of  the  woolly  west  yes- 
terday. 

“Guess  you’d  be  so,  too,  if  you  lived  where  I do. 
I’m  goin’  on  to  Washington  to  see  the  president.” 

“Political  trouble?” 

“National  trouble,  sir;  international  trouble. 
Don’t  letters  come  from  all  over  the  globe,  say 
now?” 

“Oh,  I see;  something  wrong  in  the  postoffice 
department.” 

“Wrong!  I should  say  there  was.  You  see  I 
live  at  Snag  Forks,  and  Bill  Wilkins  he’s  been 
postmaster  for  nigh  on  to  six  years.  At  first  he 
done  the  square  thing.  Wlien  the  letters  come 
they  was  dumped  in  a candle  box  on  the  bar-room 


102 


THE  WORTHS 


floor,  and  the  boys  had  no  trouble  a findin’  their 
mail.  But  Bill  ain’t  the  man  he  used  ter  be.  He’s 
got  as  unaccommodatin’  as  a Texas  steer.  Bust 
he  moved  the  box  to  the  counter,  and  we  had  to 
nearly  break  our  arms  a-divin’  fer  the  letters.  Then 
if  the  durned  coyote  didn’t  get  a new  painted  con- 
sarn  with  glass  in  front  so  we  couldn’t  git  at  the 
mail  at  all,  and,  as  if  that  weren’t  insult  enough  to 
honest  men,  he  went  to  work,  rigged  up  a lot  of 
boxes,  and  hang  me  if  he  didn’t  put  locks  on  to  ’em 
and  go  to  chargin’  storage.  I just  tell  you  I’ll  git 
that  Bill  Wilkins  out  of  that  there  place  or  die  fur 
it,  now  you  see.”  > ' 

ItiHY  THE  Shad  is  bony. 

When  an  angel  made  shad 
The  devil  was  mad. 

For  it  seemed  such  a feast  of  delight, 

So,  to  punish  the  giver, 

He  plunged  in  the  river. 

And  stuck  in  the  hones  out  of  spite. 

But  when  the  strawberries  red 
First  illumined  their  bed 
The  angel  looked  on  and  was  glad; 

But  the  devil,  ’tis  said. 

Fairly  pounded  his  head. 

For  he’d  used  all  the  bones  for  the  shad! 


B 


ifDf?Afnr 

Cc 


THE  doctor’s  profanity. 


P.  TO3. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


103 


©HE  DOGTOr^’S  Bi^oeanity. 

Dr.  Sundel  was  a society  swell  who  liked  to  air 
his  Latin.  He  had  taken  an  acquaintance  to  call 
on  Mrs.  Parvenu,  and  the  man  had  never  gone 
back  again,  and  when  the  lady  saw  the  doctor  she 
asked  him  about  it. 

“Ah,  doctor,”  she  said,  “where  is  your  friend?” 

“Not  my  friend,  madam,”  corrected  the  doctor; 
“he  was  merely  a quondam  acquaintance.” 

“Sir!”  exclaimed  the  lady,  in  horrified  amaze- 
ment. ‘‘I  don’t  know  the  relation  existing,  but  if 
you  cannot  express  yourself  in  ladies’  company 
without  profanity,  you  had  better  follow  your 
friend.” 


fl  gUlEJH  (©HAT. 

J is  a wideawake  young  business  man  on 

State  street.  Sauntering  about  at  the  Art  club 
exhibition  recently,  he  chanced  to  meet  a friend,  a 
deaf  mute,  who  was  conversing  with  a companion 

in  sign  language.  Greeting  J cordially  the 

deaf  mute  drew  out  a pocket  pad  and  pencil  and 
after  a brief  pencil  and  paper  conversation  intro- 
duced his  companion  by  the  same  means  and 
shortly  after  withdrew. 

J and  the  gentleman  discussed  the  pictures 

pleasantly  for  twenty  minutes  or  more,  meanwhile 


101 


THE  WORTHS 


covering  the  backs  of  sundry  envelopes  and  scraps 
of  paper  with  their  pencilings,  when  a fourth  char- 
acter in  this  little  drama  came  upon  the  scene,  a 
friend  of  J ’s  new-made  acquaintance. 

“Hello,  George!”  said  the  new-made  acquain- 
tance to  the  new  comer,  famiharly,  “how  do  you 
like  the  pictures  this  year?” 

“Thunder  and  Mars!”  exclaimed  J in  sur- 

prise, “can  you  talk?” 

“Well,  I should  say  so,”  said  the  gentleman, 
equally  surprised,  as  he  suddenly  put  away  pencil 
and  paper.  “Ain’t  youAedbi  and  dumb?” 

“Not  by  a good  deal!”  J I’^eplied,  thrusting 

into  his  pockety. an  envelope  nearly  covered  with 
pencil  marks,  “but  I’ll  kill  Dummy  next  time  I 
meet  him.” 


fl  Good  Indoi^sbmbnt. 

We  never  speak  as  we  pass  by. 

Although  a tear  bedims  his  eye ; 

I know  he  thinks  of  when  he  wrote 
His  name  across  my  three-months’  note. 

— Pitch. 


K^IGI^ING  fflADB  Ho  DIPPBI^BNGB. 

“A  little  story”  brings  to  mind  with  renewed 
force  the  old  proverb,  “truth  is  stranger  than  fic- 


% 


t; 

5 


ir-,. 


r- 


I 


i 


THE  CYCLONE  SWOOPED  DOWN. 


p.  io6. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


105 


tion.”  We  were  talking  of  what  disposition  to 
make  of  a kicking  cow,  when  our  hired  man  said : 
guess  I can  find  a customer  for  her.  There’s 

an  Irishman  up  in  K who  bought  a cow  from 

one  of  our  neighbors.  He  told  the  Irishman  that 
he  must  tell  him  one  thing  about  the  cow  before 
he  closed  the  bargain — that  the  cow  would  some- 
times kick.” 

^‘The  tender  “God-ordained  protector”  of  our 
sex  replied : / 

“That  makes  no  difference;  my  wife  does  the 
milking.” 

I have  often  heard  such  things  told,  and  have 
sometimes  thought  they  must  have  been  made  up 
“to  point  a moral  or  adorn  a tale.”  But  this  is  a 
fact ; for  I questioned  the  man  about  it  and  he  said 
he  knew  it  was  true. 


(©YGLONES. 


BILLIE  NYE. 


We  were  riding  along  on  the  bounding  train 
yesterday,  and  some  one  spoke  of  the  free  and 
democratic  way  that  people  in  this  country  got 
acquainted  with  each  other  while  traveling.  Then 
we  got  to  talking  about  railway  sociability  and 
railway  etiquette,  when  a young  man  from  East 


106 


THE  WORLD^S 


Jasper,  who  had  wildly  jumped  and  grabbed  his 
valise  every  time  the  train  hesitated,  said  that  it 
was  queer  what  railway  travel  would  do  in  the  way 
of  throwing  people  together.  He  said  that  in 
Nebraska  once  he  and  a large,  corpulent  gentle- 
man, both  total  strangers,  were  thrown  together 
while  trying  to  jump  a washout,  and  an  intimacy 
sprang  up  between  them  that  had  ripened  into  open 
hostihty. 

From  that  we  got  to  talking  about  natural  phe- 
nomena and  storms.  I spoke  of  the  cyclone  with 
some  feeling  and  a little  bitterness,  perhaps,  briefly 
telling  my  own  experience,  and  making  the  storm 
as  loud  and  wet  and  violent  as  possible. 

Then  a gentleman  from  Kansas,  named  George  L. 
Murdock,  an  old  cattleman,  was  telling  of  a cyclone 
that  came  across  his  range  two  years  ago  last  Sep- 
tember. The  sky  was  clear  to  begin  with,  and  then 
all  at  once,  as  Mr.  Murdock  states,  a little  cloud  no 
larger  than  a man’s  hand  might  have  been  seen. 
It  moved  toward  the  southwest  gently,  with  its 
hands  in  its  pockets  for  a few  moments,  and  then 
Mr.  Murdock  discovered  that  it  was  of  a pale-green 
color,  about  sixteen  hands  high,  with  dark-blue  mane 
and  tail.  About  a mile  from  where  he  stood  the  cy- 
clone, with  great  force,  swooped  down  and,  with  a 
muffled  roar,  swept  a quarter-section  of  land  out 
from  under  a heavy  mortgage  without  injuring  the 


V;' IT  AND  WITS. 


107 


mortgage  in  the  least.  He  says  that  people  came 
for  miles  the  following  day  to  see  the  mortgage, 
still  on  file  at  the  office  of  the  register  of  deeds  and 
jnst  as  good  as  ever. 

Then  a gentleman  named  Bean,  of  western  Min- 
nesota, a man  who  went  there  in  an  early  day  and 
homesteaded  it  when  his  nearest  neighbor  was  fifty 
miles  away,  spoke  of  a cyclone  that  visited  his 
county  before  the  telegraph  or  railroad  had  pene- 
trated that  part  of  the  state. 

Mr.  Bean  said  it  was  very  clear  up  to  the  mo- 
ment that  he  noticed  a cloud  in  the  northwest  no 
larger  than  a man’s  hand.  It  sauntered  down  in  a 
southwesterly  direction  like  a cyclone  that  had  all 
summer  to  do  its  chores  in.  Then  it  gave  two 
quick  snorts  and  a roar,  wiped  out  of  existence  all 
the  farm  buildings  he  had,  sucked  the  well  dry, 
soured  all  the  milk  in  the  milk  house,  and  spread 
desolation  all  over  that  quarter-section.  But  Mr. 
Bean  said  that  the  most  remarkable  thing  he  re- 
membered was  this : He  had  dug  about  a pint  of 
angle  worms  that  morning,  intending  to  go  over  to 
the  lake  toward  evening  and  catch  a few  perch. 
But  when  the  cyclone  came  it  picked  up  those 
angle  worms  and  drove  them  head  first  through  his 
new  grindstone  without  injuiring  the  worms  or  im- 
pairing the  grindstone.  He  would  have  had  the 
grindstone  photographed,  he  said,  if  the  angle 


108 


THE  WOELITS 


worms  could  have  been  kept  still  long  enough.  He 
said  that  they  were  driven  just  far  enough  through 
to  hang  on  the  other  side  like  a lambrequin. 

The  cyclone  is  certainly  a wonderful  phenomenon, 
its  movements  are  so  erratic,  and  in  direct  violation 
of  all  known  rules. 

Mr.  Louis  P.  Barker  of  northern  Iowa  was  also 
on  the  car,  and  he  described  a cyclone  that  he  saw 
in  the  ’70s  along  in  September  at  the  close  of  a hot 
but  clear  day.  The  first  intimation  that  Mr.  Bar- 
ker had  of  an  approaching  storm  was  a small  cloud 
no  larger  than  a man’s  hand  which  he  discovered 
moving  slowly  toward  the  southwest  with  a gyra- 
tory movement.  It  then  appeared  to  be  a funnel- 
shaped  cloud  which  passed  along  near  the  surface 
of  the  ground  with  its  apex  now  and  then  lightly 
touching  a barn  or  a well,  and  pulling  it  out  by  the 
roots.  It  would  then  bound  lightly  into  the  air 
and  spit  on  its  hands.  What  he  noticed  most  care- 
fully on  the  following  day  was  the  wonderful 
evidences  of  its  powerful  suction.  It  sucked  a 
milch  cow  absolutely  dry,  pulled  all  the  water  out’ 
of  his  .cistern,  and  then  went  around  to  the  waste- 
water  pipe  that  led  from  the  bath-room  and  drew  a 
2-year-old  child,  who  was  taking  a bath  at  the  time, 
clear  down  through  the  two-inch  waste-pipe,  a dis- 
tance of  150  feet.  He  had  two  inches  of  the  pipe 
with  him  and  a lock  of  hair  from  the  child’s  head. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


109 


It  is  such  circumstances  as  these,  coming  to  ns 
from  the  mouths  of  eye-witnesses,  that  lead  us  to 
exclaim : How  prolific  is  nature  and  how  wonder- 
ful are  all  her  works — including  poor,  weak  man ! 
Man,  who  comes  into  the  world  clothed  in  a little 
brief  authority,  perhaps,  and  nothing  else  to  speak 
of.  He  rises  up  in  the  morning,  prevaricates,  and 
dies.  Where  are  our  best  liars  to-day?  Look  for 
them  where  you  will  and  you  will  find  that  they 
are  passing  away.  Go  into  the  cemetery  and  there 
you  will  find  them  mingling  with  the  dust,  but 
striving  still  to  perpetuate  their  business  by  mark- 
ing their  tombs  with  a gentle  prevarication,  chiseled 
in  enduring  stone. 

I have  heard  it  intimated  by  people  who  seemed 
to  know  what  they  were  talking  about  that  truth  is 
mighty  and  will  prevail,  but  I do  not  see  much 
show  for  her  till  the  cyclone  season  is  over. 


Y)E  Ought  to  &ay  Some  op  ©hem. 

A gentleman  met  Senator  Beck  yesterday  for 
the  first  time  in  a dozen  years,  and  the  greeting 
was  cordial. 

“Ah,  senator,”  said  the  friend,  “you  don’t  look  a 
day  older  than  you  did  the  last  time  I saw  you.” 

“I’m  a little  grayer,  possibly,”  suggested  the  sen- 
ator, with  a pleased  smile. 


no 


THE  W0RLH8 


“You  are  looking  in  excellent  health,  too,”  pur- 
sued the  friend. 

‘‘Thank  you.  And  do  you  know,”  continued  the 
senator,  “that  I am  64  years  old  and  I never  paid 
hut  one  doctor’s  bill  in  my  life,  and  that  for  a 
broken  arm?” 

“Is  that  so?”  asked  the  friend  in  surprise. 

“Fact,  I assure  you.” 

“Well,  senator,”  said  the  friend,  with  a signifi- 
cant smile,  “don’t  you  think  it  is  almost  time  you 
were  paying  some  of  them  and  preserving  ^mur 
credit?” 

The  senator  moved  for  an  executive  session  and 
presented  a hill  of  explanations. 


©HE  Ripest 

Fond  Husband — Well,  my  dear  what  are  you 
sobbing  about? 

Young  Wife — Why,  that  sponge  cake  I sent  to 
the  agricultural  fair  has  just  taken  the  first  prize. 
Boo-hoo. 

Fond  Husband — What  is  there  to  cry  about  in 
that?  You  ought  to  feel  proud,  my  dear,  of  your 
knowledge  of  the  culinary  art. 

Young  Wife — But  you  don’t  understand.  The 
judges  gave  it  the  award  as  the  best  specimen  of 
concrete  sent  in.  Boo-hoo. — Chicago  Bamhler, 


GOOD  REASON  FOR  WALKING  SO  FAR. 


P.  III. 


) 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


111 


Good  I^eason  poi^  ^alp^ing  so  Fai^. 

Lady  of  the  House  (to  constant  seeker  of  pecu- 
niary assistance) — Here  again,  Mrs.  Maloney? 
Now,  why  have  you  walked  all  this  distance? 

Mrs.  Maloney — Shure,  mum,  if  yez  knew  the 
agony  me  feet  are  givin’  uv  me  ye’d  not  wondher 
oi  tramped  five  miles  to  see  yez. 

t 

V'  ■•  • • 

Ghild^  FJomangei^. 

The  imagination  of  a 3-year-old  boy  is  often  a 
stupendous  thing.  One  can’t  help  wondering  how 
much  a child  of  that  age  believes  of  his  own  big 
stories.  This  one  for  example  : 

‘T  went  out  in  de  front  yard  dis  morning,”  said 
Benny,  ‘‘and  I saw  a ’nawful  big  horse  up  in  a tree, 
and  I took  a gun  and  shooted  it,  and  I tooked  it 
into  de  house  and  my  mamma  picked  de  fedders  off 
it  and  cooked  it  for  hreksit!” 


©HE  Swo  Beaux. 

Two  beaux  had  the  beautiful  maiden, 

Two  beaux  she  had  waiting  upon  her ; 

One  vowed  that  he  loved  her,  the  other  one  praised 
her. 

And  the  one  that  praised  her  won  her. 


112 


TEE  W0ELD'>8 


On  ithb  Bedding  ^oui^ney. 

He — My  dear,  are  yon  comfortable  over  there  in 
the  corner? 

She — Quite  comfortable,  darling. 

He — You  are  quite  sure  you  are  not  cold? 

She — Not  at  all. 

He — No  draught  from  the  window? 

She — None,  thanks. 

He — Well,  then,  I will  change  seats  with  you? 


PLANTED  TO  I<^EEP  THE  O^ATGH. 

A man  came  into  the  store  with  a battered  old 
watch  which  he  wanted  repaired.  One  of  the 
clerks  looked  at  it  and  remarked  that  it  was  almost 
past  mending. 

“Yes,”  said  the  other,  “but  I want  to  keep  that 
watch.  It  was  given  to  me  by  my  brother  on  his 
death  bed,  and  I want  to  preserve  it  as  a momen- 
tum. 


fl  ©UTE  Sign. 

A Clark  street  justice,  who  makes  a specialty  of 
remarrying  divorced  couples  who  have  become  re- 
conciled, hangs  out  the  sign,  “Kepairing  neatly 
done.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


113 


©AI(BN  Pr^OM  ''lilPB.” 
Tom — How’s  that  cold  of  yours? 
Bert — Oh!  I got  rid  of  it. 

Tom — What  did  you  take? 

Bert — A fresh  one. 


Diffident  Lover — I know  that  I am  a perfect 
bear  in  my  manner. 

She — Sheep,  you  mean ; bears  hug  people — you 
do  nothing  but  bleat. 

Yes,  John  Henry,  an  umpire  might  be  called  a 
man  of  judgement,  but  you’d  better  not  let  him 
hear  you  making  any  such  jokes  in  his  vicinity. 
He  might  bat  you  on  the  head,  base  man ! 


Customer  (in  restaurant) — I ordered  some  cheese, 
waiter. 

Waiter — Yes,  sah.  I done  brought  it,  sah. 
Customer — Well,  where  is  it,  then? 

Waiter — Didn’t  yo’  eat  it? 

Customer — Eat  it?  Certainly  not. 

Waiter — Den  I ’spects  it  must  a got  away,  sah. 

€VBI^Y30DY  K^NBW  I7IM. 

C.  P.  Kimball,  of  Chicago,  who  is  the  United 
States  consul  at  Stuttgart  under  this  administra- 


8 


114: 


THE  WORTHS 


tion,  is  one  of  the  men  who  delights  to  tell  good 
stories.  He  has  a large  fund  from  which  to  draw. 
I was  chatting  with  him  a day  or  two  ago  on  his 
return  from  Germany  for  a business  trip,  when 
something  was  said  about  presidential  candidates. 
The  comparative  obscurity  of  Mr.  Cleveland  at  the 
time  of  his  nomination  was  mentioned. 

“That  always  reminds  me  of  a New  Hampshire 
story,”  said  Mr.  Kimball.  “I  was  stopping  in  New 
Hampshire  for  a few  days  when  Lincoln  was  nomi- 
nated at  Chicago.  An  old  countryman  from  a 
little  village  back  in  the 'Country  had  come  to  town 
and  was  in  the  hotel  office  when  theAiews  came. 

'“‘Who  is  this  man  Lincoln? 'he  asked. 

“There  was  some  explanation  and  the  old  fellow 
went  on:  “Well,  I’m  afeard  theyv’e  made  a mis- 
take. They  ought  to  have  nominated  a man  that 
was  more  ginerally  known.  They  should  have 
come  to  our  town  and  nominated  ’Squire  Ichabod 
Bartlett.  Everybody  knows  him.’  ” 

©AIPBGHISEI^Y. 

First  smaU  boy — Say,  Johnny,  where  are  you  in 
Sunday  School? 

Second  small  boy — Oh,  we’re  in  the  middle  of 
original  sin. 

First  small  boy — That  ain’t  much;  we’re  past 
redemption. 


NEVER  TOO  OLD  TO  LEARN. 


P.  II5; 


mr  AND  WITS. 


115 


NEVER  TOO  OLD  TO  LEARN. 

Little  boy  (studying  his  Latin  lesson) — Pa,  what 
does  “mort”  mean  ? 

Pa  (ex- alderman  and  builder) — Is  that  word  in 
your  book? 

Little  boy — Yes. 

Pa  - -Well,  it  means  “more  mortar,”  but  I didn’t 
know  it  was  a Latin  word. 

Lottie’s  last  chance  and  she  took  it. 

There  was  a wedding  Lc.pfast.  The  groom  to 
the  little  girl:  “You  have  a new  brother  now,  you 
know.” 

“Yeth,”  responded  the  little  one,  “ma  seth  it  wath 
Lottie’s  lasth  chance,  so  she  better  take  it.” 

The  rest  of  the  little  one’s  talk  was  drowned  in  a 
clatter  of  knives  and  forks. 


Legal  ^Issistangb. 

“I  sent  you  an  account  of  $25  for  collection,” 
said  a man  coming  into  the  office  of  a Dakota  law- 
yer. 

“Yes,  you  did.” 

“What  success  have  you  had?” 

“Sued  him  last  week  and  got  it.” 

“That’s  good.  Give  me  the  money  and  tell  me 
the  amount  of  your  fees  and  I will  pay  you.” 


116 


THE  WORTHS 


“My  fees  are  $50.  I have  given  you  credit  for 
the  $25  collected — pay  me  another  $25  and  we’ll 
be  square.” 

“What!”  gasped  the  man,  “I  don’t  see  where  I 
make  anything  by  collecting  the  debt.” 

“Nothing,  my  dear  sir,  from  a money  point  of 
view,  but  you  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
a dishonest  man  has  been  brought  to  justice!  You 
can  use  your  own  pleasure  about  paying  that  $25 
now;  I took  the  precaution  to  commence  suit 
against  you  for  the  am(^unt  ' this  morning.” — Es- 
telline  (D.  T.)  Bell. 


Hot  a Bad  ©r^ip. 

“Isn’t  this  road  one  of  the  roughest  in  the  whole 
w^orld?”  asked  a traveler  over  a Missouri  branch,  of 
the  conductor. 

“No,  I don’t  think  so,”  was  the  complacent 
reply. 

“But — great  heavens! — good  lands! — what  do 
you  call  this?”  shouted  the  passenger,  as  he  hung 
to  the  seat. 

“The  hind  trucks  are  off  the  rail  sir — nothing 
more.  You  can’t  expect  to  run  on  the  ties  with- 
out some  little  unpleasantness,  although  the  engi- 
neer will  do  his  best  to  reduce  it  to  the  minimum.” 


: 


A FAR-REACHING  MULTITUDE  OF  DOGS. 


P.  iig. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


117 


©WAIN’S  ^MUSING  SEQUELS  UO  SEV- 
Ef^AL  ^NEGDOTES. 

All  my  life,  from  boyhood  up,  I have  had  the 
habit  of  reading  a certain  set  of  anecdotes  written 
in  the  quaint  vein  of  the  Worlds  ingenious  Fabu- 
list, for  the  lesson  they  taught  me  and  the  pleasure 
they  gave  me.  They  lay  always  convenient  to  my 
hand,  and  whenever  I thought  meanly  of  my  kind  I 
turned  to  them,  and  they  banished  that  sentiment ; 
whenever  I felt  myself  to  be  selfish,  sordid,  and 
ignoble,  I turned  to  them,  and  they  told  me  what 
to  do  to  win  back  my  self-respect.  Many  times  I 
wished  that  the  charming  anecdotes  had  not  stopped 
with  their  happy  climaxes,  but  had  continued  the 
pleasing  history  of  the  several  benefactors  and  bene- 
ficiaries. This  wish  rose  in  my  breast  so  persistently 
that  at  last  I determined  to  satisfy  it  by  seeking 
out  the  sequels  of  those  anecdotes  myself.  So  I 
set  about  it,  and  after  great  labor  and  tedious  re- 
search accomplished  my  task.  I will  lay  the  result 
before  you,  giving  you  each  anecdote  in  its  turn, 
and  following  it  with  its  sequel  as  I gathered  it 
through  my  investigations. 

The  Gkateful  Poodle. — One  day  a benevolent 
physican  (who  had  read  the  books),  having  found  a 
stray  poodle  suffering  from  a broken  leg,  conveyed 
the  poor  creature  home,  and,  after  setting  and  ban- 


118 


Tilt:  WORLD^S 


daging  the  injured  limb,  gave  the  little  out-cast  his 
liberty  again,  and  thought  no  more  about  the 
matter.  But  how  great  was  his  surprise,  upon 
opening  his  door  one  morning,  some  days  later,  to 
find  the  grateful  poodle  patiently  waiting  there,  and 
in  its  company  another  stray  dog,  one  of  whose  legs, 
by  some  accident,  had  been  broken.  The  kind 
physician  at  once  relieved  the  distressed  animal,  nor 
did  he  forget  to  admire  the  inscrutable  goodness  and 
mercy  of  God,  who  had  been  willing  to  use  so 
humble  an  instrument  as  the  poor  outcast  poodle 
for  the  inculcating  of,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

Sequel. — The  next  morning  the  benevolent  phy- 
sician found  the  two  dogs,  beaming  with  gratitude, 
waiting  at  his  door,  and  with  them  two  other  dogs, 
— cripples.  The  cripples  were  speedily  healed,  and 
the  four  went  their  way,  leaving  the  benevolent 
physician  more  overcome  by  pious  wonder  than 
ever.  The  day  passed,  the  morning  came.  There 
at  the  door  sat  novr  the  four  reconstructed  dogs, 
and  with  them  four  others  requiring  reconstruc- 
tion. This  day  also  passed,  and  another  morning 
came ; and  now  sixteen  dogs,  eight  of  them  newly 
crippled,  occupied  the  sidewalk  and  the  people  were 
going  around.  By  noon  the  broken  legs  were  all 
set,  but  the  pious  wonder  in  the  good  physician’s 
breast  was  beginning  to  get  mixed  with  involuntary 
profanity.  The  sun  rose  once  more,  and  exhibited 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


119 


thirty- two  dogs,  sixteen  of  them  with  broken  legs, 
occupying  the  sidewalk  and  half  of  the  street ; the 
human  spectators  took  up  the  rest  of  the  room. 
The  cries  of  the  wounded,  the  songs  of  the  healed 
brutes,  and  the  comments  of  the  on-looking  citizens 
made  great  and  inspiring  cheer,  but  traffic  was  in- 
terrupted in  that  street.  The  good  physician  hired 
a couple  of  assistant  surgeons  and  got  through  his 
benevolent  work  before  dark,  first  taking  the  pre- 
caution to  cancel  his  church  membership,  so  that 
he  might  express  himself  with  the  latitude  which 
the  case  required. 

But  some  things  have  their  limits.  When  once 
more  the  morning  dawned,  and  the  good  physician 
looked  out  upon  a massed  and  far-reaching  multi- 
tude of  clamorous  and  beseeching  dogs,  he  said, 
‘T  might  as  well  acknowledge  it,  I have  been  fooled 
by  the  books ; they  only  tell  the  pretty  part  of  the 
story,  and  then  stop.  Fetch  me  the  shot-gun;  this 
thing  has  gone  along  far  enough.” 

He  issued  forth  with  his  weapon,  and  chanced  to 
step  upon  the  tail  of  the  original  poodle,  who 
promply  bit  him  in  the  leg.  Now  the  great  and 
good  work  which  this  poodle  had  been  engaged  in 
had  engendered  in  him  such  a mighty  and  augment- 
ing enthusiasm  as  to  turn  his  weak  head  at  last  and 
drive,  him  mad.  A month  later,  when  the  benevo- 
lent physician  lay  in  the  death  throes  of  hydro- 


120 


THE  WOHLD^S 


phobia,  he  called  his  weeping  friends  about  him, 
and  said: 

“Beware  of  the  hooks.  They  tell  but  half  of  the 
story.  Whenever  a poor  wretch  asks  you  for  help, 
and  you  feel  a doubt  as  to  what  result  may  follow 
from  your  benevolence,  give  yourself  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt  and  kill  the  applicant.” 

And  so  saying,  he  turned  his  face  to- the  wall  and 
gave  up  the  ghost. 

The  Grateful  Husband. — One  day  a lady  was 
driving  through  the  principal  street  of  a great  city 
with  her  little  boy,  when  the  horses  took  fright  and 
dashed  madly  away,  hurling  the  coachman  from  his 
box  and  leaving  the  occupants  of  the  carriage 
paralyzed  with  terror.  But  a brave  youth  who  was 
driving  a grocery  wagon  threw  himself  before  the 
plunging  animals,  and  succeeded  in  arresting  their 
flight  at  the  peril  of  his  own.*  The  grateful  lady 
took  his  number,  and  upon  arriving  at  her  home 
related  the  heroic  act  to  her  husband  (who  had 
read  the  books),  who  listened  with  streaming  eyes 
to  the  moving  recital,  and  who,  after  returning 
thanks,  in  conjunction  with  his  restored  loved  ones, 
to  Him  who  suffereth  not  even  a sparrow  to  fall  to 
the  ground  unnoticed,  sent  for  the  brave  young 
person,  and,  placing  a check  for  §500  in  his  hand, 
said:  “Take  this  as  a reward  for  your  noble  act, 


* This  is  probably  a misprint.— ilf.  T. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


121 


William  Ferguson,  and,  if  ever  you  shall  need  a 
friend,  remember  that  Thompson  McSpadden  has  a 
grateful  heart.” 

Let  us  learn  from  this  that  a good  deed  cannot 
fail  to  benefit  the  doer,  however  humble  he  may  be. 

Sequel. — William  Furguson  called  the  next  week 
and  asked  Mr.  McSpadden,  to  use  his  influence  to 
get  him  a higher  employment,  he  feeling  capable  of 
better  things  than  driving  a grocer’s  wagon.  Mr. 
McSpadden  got  him  an  under-clerkship  at  a 
good  salary. 

Presently  William  Ferguson’s  mother  fell  sick, 
and  William — well,  to  cut  the  story  short,  Mr. 
McSpadden  consented  to  take  her  into  his  house. 
Before  long  she  yearned  for  the  society  of  her 
younger  children : so  Mary  and  Julia  were  admitted 
also,  and  little  Jimmy,  their  brother.  Jimmy  had' 
a pocket-knife,  and  he  wandered  into  the  drawing- 
room with  it  one  day,  alone,  and  reduced  $10,000 
worth  of  furniture  to  an  indeterminable  value  in 
rather  less  than  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  A day 
or  two  later  he  fell  down  stairs  and  broke  his  neck, 
and  seventeen  of  his  family’s  relatives  came  to  the 
house  to  attend  the  funderal.  This  made  them 
acquainted,  and  they  kept  the  kitchen  occupied 
after  that,  and  likewise  kept  the  McSpaddens  busy 
hunting  up  situations  of  various  sorts  for  them,  and 
hunting  up  more  when  they  wore  these  out.  The 


122 


THE  WORTHS 


old  woman  drank  a good  deal  and  swore  a good 
deal;  but  the  grateful  McSpaddens  knew  it  was 
their  duty  to  reform  her,  considering  what  her  son 
had  done  for  them,  so  they  clave  nobly  to  their 
generous  task.  William  came  often  and  got  de- 
creasing sums  of  money,  and  asked  for  higher  and 
more  lucrative  employments, — which  the  grateful 
McSpadden  more  or  less  promptly  procured  for 
him.  McSpadden  consented  also,  after  some  de- 
mur, to  fit  William  for  college ; but  when  the  first 
vacation  came,  and  the  hero  requested  to  be  sent 
to  Europe  for  his  health,  the  persecuted  McSpad- 
den rose  against  the  tyrant  and  revolted.  He 
plainly  and  squarely  refused.  William  Ferguson’s 
mother  was  so  astonished  that  she  let  her  gin- 
bottle  drop  and  her  profane  lips  refused  to  do  their 
office.  When  she  recovered,  she  said  in  a hah- 
gasp,  “Is  this  your  gratitude?  Where  would  your 
wife  and  boy  be  now  but  for  my  son?” 

William  said,  “Is  this  your  gratitude!  Did  I 
save  your  wife’s  life  or  not?  Tell  me  that!” 

Seven  relations  swarmed  in  from  the  kitchen  and 
each  said,  “And  this  is  his  gratitude!” 

Wilham’s  sisters  stared,  bewildered,  and  said, 
“And  this  is  his  grat — ” but  were  interrupted  by 
their  mother,  who  burst  into  tears  and  exclaimed, 
“To  think  that  my  sainted  little  Jimmy  threw 
away  his  life  in  the  service  of  such  a reptile!” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


123 


Then  the  pluck  of  the  revolutionary  McSpadden 
rose  to  the  occasion,  and  he  replied  with  fervor, 
“Out  of  my  house,  the  whole  beggarly  tribe  of  you! 
I was  beguiled  by  the  books,  but  shall  never  be 
beguiled  again, — once  is  sufficient  for  me,”  And 
turning  to  William,  he  shouted,  “Yes  you  did  save 
my  wife’s  life,  and  the  next  man  that  does  it  shall 
die  in  his  tracks!” 

Not  being  a clergyman,  I place  my  text  at  the 
end  of  my  sermon  instead  of  at  the  beginning.  Here 
it  is,  from  Mr.  Noah  Brooks’  Eecollections  of 
President  Lincoln. 

“J.  H.  Hackett,  in  his  part  of  Falstaff,  was  an 
actor  who  gave  Mr.  Lincoln  great  delight.  With 
his  usual  desire  to  signify  to  others  his  sense  of 
obligation,  Mr.  Lincoln  wrote  a genial  little  note  to 
the  actoi’,  expressing  his  pleasure  at  witnessing  his 
performance.  Mr.  Hackett,  in  reply,  sent  a book 
of  some  sort ; perhaps  it  was  one  of  his  own  author- 
ship. He  also  wrote  several  notes  to  the  President, 
One  night,  quite  late,  when  the  episode  had  passed 
out  of  my  mind,  I went  to  the  White  House  in 
answer  to  a message.  Passing  into  the  President’s 
office,  I noticed,  to  my  surprise,  Hackett  sitting  in 
the  anteroom  as  if  waiting  for  an  audience.  The 
Preident  asked  me  if  any  one  was  outside.  On 
being  told,  he  said,  half  sadly,  “Oh,  I can’t  see  him, 
1 can’t  see  him : I was  in  hopes  he  had  gone  away.’ 


124 


THE  WORLD'' S 


Then  he  added,  ‘Now  this  just  illustrates  the  diffi- 
culty of  having  pleasant  friends  and  acquaintances 
in  this  place.  You  know  how  I liked  Hackett  as 
an  actor  and  how  I wrote  to  tell  him  so.  He  sent 
me  that  hook  and  there  I thought  the  matter  would 
end.  He  is  a master  of  his  place  in  the  profession, 
I suppose,  and  well  fixed  in  it;  but  just  because  we 
had  a little  friendly  correspondence,  such  as  any 
two  men  might  have,  he  wants  something.  Yliat 
do  you  sui^pose  Jie  wants?’  I could  not  guess,  and 
Mr.  Lincoln  added:  ‘Well,  he  wants  to  he  Consul 
to  London,  Oh,  dear  I’  ” 

I will  observe,  in  conclusion,  that  the  Wilham 
Ferguson  incident  occurred,  and  within  my  person- 
al knowledge,  though  I have  changed  the  nature  of 
the  details  to  keep  William  from  recognizing  him- 
self in  it. 

All  the  readers  of  this  article  have  in  some  sw'eet 
and  gushing  hour  of  their  lives  played  the  role  of 
Magnanimous-Incident  hero.  I wish  I knew  how 
many  there  are  among  them  who  are  wilhng  to 
talk  about  that  episode,  and  like  to  be  reminded  of 
the  consequences  that  flowed  from  it. 


BAr^iriNGJPON’s  Gai^LiY  Life. 

Mr.  B.  P.  Shillaber  has  been  writing  a bright 
and  graceful  article  concerning  the  good  old  lady 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


125 


— Mrs.  Partington.  Her  first  innocently  wise  say- 
ing was  inspired  by  a remark  of  one  of  the  news- 
paper men,  on  a night  when  a steamer  from 
England  had  brought  news  of  an  advance  in  bread- 
stuft's,  who  said  he  did  not  care,  as  he  bought  his 
flour  by  the  half-dollar’s  worth. — “Mrs.  Partington” 
was  then  made  to  say,  in  the  httle  paragraph  that 
Mr.  Shillaber  wrote,  that  it  made  “no  difference  to 
her  whether  flour  was  dear  or  cheap,  as  she  always 
received  just  so  much  for  a half  dollar’s  worth.” 
This  was  copied  the  next  day,  and  the  inducement 
was  thus  offered  to  try  again.  This  meeting  with 
like  success,  they  were  kept  on,  until  Mrs.  P.,  as 
she  expressed  it,  had  obtained  a “memento”  she 
could  not  check. — Mr.  Shillaber  adds : “Mrs.  Part- 
ington” was  an  entirely  new  creation,  for  I had 
never  seen  the  ^Eivals’  acted,  nor  read  it,  and 
though  I knew,  from  extracts  in  comic  compila- 
tions, of  Mrs.  Malaprop’s  existence  and  character, 
it  moved  no  pulse  of  my  ambition.  The  real  inspi- 
ration which  prompted  the  effort  to  continue  the 
Partington  sayings,  when  the  idea  took  positive 
form,  was  the  constant  hearing  of  expressions,  by 
very  excellent  people,  that  seemed  too  funny  to  be 
allowed  to  pass  into  forgetfulness, — queer  errors, 
inadvertantly  made,  and  otherwise.” 


126 


THE  WORLHS 


Spying. 

I sit  in  the  “light-house  tower 
With  a spy-glass  in  my  hand, 
And  to  test  its  wondrous  power 
I scan  the  sea  and  land. 

The  long  day  nears  its  ending 
The  sun  sinks  to  the  sea, 

The  sunset  colors  blending 
In  gentle  harmony. 

The  beach  is  still  and  lonely. 

No  one  but  me  is  near. 

The  glass  discloses  only 
A couple  on  the  pier. 

Far  out  from  land  they’re  sitting, 

- She  nestling  close  to  him. 

And  with  ardor  unremitting 
They  spoon  in  the  twilight  dim. 

Her  head  upon  his  shoulder. 

She  sits  in  perfect  bhss. 

And  smiles  when  he  grows  bolder 
And  steals  from  her  a kiss. 

And  I mildly  wonder  whether 
They  would  sit  upon  the  pier. 
And  spoon  like  that  together 
If  they  knew  that  I was  here. 


IN  PERFECT  BLISS 


P.  126. 


! 


•V.  - 


> 


imRAfnr 

rr  T"E 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


127 


Decided  ^dyanipage. 

“Yes,”  remarked  a Kentucky  man  at  the  Long 
Credit  Hotel  yesterday  afternoon,  “we’ve  never 
thought  much  of  Chicago  down  our  way,  sah,  but 
you  folks  show  mighty  good  sense  in  some  things.” 

“I  flatter  myself  we  do,”  returned  the  host, 
genially. 

“No  doubt  of  it,  sah,  and  what  pleases  me  most, 
sah,  is  the  way  you  have  of  keeping  disagreeable 
things  out  of  sight.” 

“Yes?”  " 

“Now  take  your  funnels,  sah,  whak  a glorious 
advantage  they  are ! ’ ’ 

“H’m,  h’m;  yes — of — course,”  answered  the 
host,  dubiously,  “but  I don’t  quite  understand  what 
disagreeable  thing  they  keep  out  of  sight.” 

“Water,  sah,  water.” 

^HAJP  ©HEY  Said. 

We  were  walking  in  the  woodlands,  Loo  and  I, 
And  it  seemed  I’d  never  seen  so  fair  a sky 
As  the  one  that  bended  o’er  us. 

Or  heard  e’er  so  sweet  a chorus 
As  the  birds  sang  to  us  as  we  wandered  by. 

That  we  were  a pair  of  lovers  well  they  knew. 

For  the  wood  doves  started  in  their  mournful  coo, 


128 


THE  VrOELD^S 


And  an  old  owl  who  was  hidden 
In  a tapering  hirch,  unhidden, 

Eeniarked:  “To-woo,  to-woo,  to- woo,  to-woo!” 

I was  full  of  prostestations — most  men  are — 

I compared  my  love  to  an  eternal  star. 

When  a frowsy  old  bell  wether,' 

Who  had  somehow  slipped  his  tether. 

Gave  a scornful  “Bah !”  which  set  my  nerves  ajar. 

Such  irrelevancy  knocks  the  romance  some. 

So  I walked  on  toward  the  lakelet — hushed  and 
dumb. 

There  beneath  the  houghs  enlacing. 

Paused  we  for  a fond  embracing. 

And  a frog  who  watched  us  gurgled  out:  “Yum- 
yuml” 

I told  her  all  the  future  held  in  fee. 

Of  the  money  I could  hoard  as  an  M.  D., 

When  a venerable  drake 
Came  paddling  from  the  lake 
And  cried  out  “Quack!”  derisively  at  me. 

Then  I fled  in  haste  that  woodland  scene  away, 
And  I haven’t  gone  there  since,  and  never  may. 
For  I’ve  reached  the  sad  conclusion 
That  birds’  and  beasts’  intrusion 
In  love  affairs  will  make  one  lose  the  day ! 

— Texas  Siftings. 


Wit  AND  WITS. 


m 


QiA^l{  ©WAIN’S  05AT6H. 

My  beautiful  new  watch  had  run  eighteen  months 
without  losing  or  gaining,  and  without  breaking  any 
part  of  its  machinery,  or  stopping.  I had  come  to 
believe  it  infalhble  in  its  judgements  about  the  time 
of  day,  and  to  consider  its  constitution  and  its  anat- 
omy imperishable . But  at  last,  one  night,  I let  it 
run  down.  I grieved  about  it  as  if  it  were  a recog- 
nized messenger  and  forerunner  of  calamity.  But 
by-and-by  I cheered  up,  set  the  watch  by  guess,  and 
commanded  my  bodings  and  superstitions  to  depart. 
dNext  day  I stepped  into  the  chief  jeweler’s  to  set  it 
by  the  exact  time,  and  the  head  of  the  establish- 
ment took  it  out  of  my  hand  and  proceeded  to  set 
it  for  me.  Then  he  said,  “She  is  four  minutes  slow 
— regulator  wants  pushing  up.”  I tried  to  stop 
him — tried  to  make  him  understand  that  the  watch 
kept  perfect  time.  But  no ; all  this  human  cabbage 
could  see  was  that  the  watch  was  four  minutes 
slow,  and  the  regulator  must  be  pushed  up  a little ; 
and  so,  while  I danced  around  him  in  anguish, 
and  implored  him  to  let  the  watch  alone,  he 
calmly  and  cruelly  did  the  shameful  deed,  r My 
watch  began  to  gain.  It  gained  faster  and  faster 
day  by  day.  Within  the  week  it  sickened  to  a 
raging  fever,  and  its  pulse  went  up  to  a hun- 
dred and  fifty  in  the  shade.  At  the  end  of  two 

9 


130 


THE  WORTHS 


months  it  had  left  all  the  timepieces  of  the  town 
far  in  the  rear,  and  was  a fraction  over  thirteen 
days  ahead  of  the  almanac.  It  was  away  into  No- 
vember enjoying  the  snow,  while  the  October  leaves 
were  still  turning.  It  hurried  up  house  rent,  bills 
payable,  and  such  things,  in  such  a ruinous  way 
that  I could  not  abide  it.^I  took  it  to  the  watch- 
maker to  be  regulated.  He  asked  me  if  I had  ever 
had  it  repaired.  I said  no,  it  had  never  needed 
any  repairing.  He  looked  a look  of  vicious  happi- 
ness and  eagerly  pried  the  watch  open,  and  then 
put  a small  dice  dox  into  his  eye  and  peered  into 
its  machinery.  He  said  it  w^anted  cleaning  and 
oiling,  besides  regulating — come  in  a week.  After 
being  cleaned,  and  oiled,  and  regulated,  my  watch 
slowed  down  to  that  degree  that  it  ticked  like  a 
tolling  bell.  ) \ began  to  be  left  by  trains  ;^'^I  failed 
all  appointments;^'!  got  to  missing  my  dinner ;‘^'^my 
watch  strung  out  three  days’  grace  to  four  and  let 
me  go  to  protest  ;^^I^  gradually  drifted  back  into 
yesterday ,'^then  day  befor^  then  into  last  week,  and 
hy-and-by  the  comprehension  came  upon  me  that 
all  solitary  and  alone  I was  lingering  along  in  week 
before  last,  and  the  world  was  out  of  sight.  I 
seemed  to  detect  in  myself  a sort  of  sneaking  fel- 
low feeling  for  the  mummy  in  the  museum,  and  a 
3 desire  to  swap  news  with  him.^  I went  to  a watch- 
maker again. — He  took  the  watch  all  to  pieces 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


131 


while  I waited,  and  tlien  said  the  barrel  was 
‘‘swelled.”  He  said  he  could  reduce  it  in  three 
days.  After  this  the  watch  averaged  well,  but 
nothing  more.  For  half  a day  it  would  go  hke  the 
very  mischief,  and  keep  up  such  a barking  and 
wheezing  and  whooping  and  sneezing  and  snorting, 
that  I could  not  hear  myself  think  for  the  disturb- 
ance ; and  as  long  as  it  held  out  there  was  not  a 
watch  in  the  land  that  stood  any  chance  against  it. 
But  the  rest  of  the  day  it  would  keep  on  slowing 
down  and  fooling  along  until  all  the  clocks  it  had 
left  behind  caught  up  again.  So  at  last,  at  the  end 
of  twenty-four  hours,  it  would  trot  up  to  the  judges’ 
stand  all  right  and  just  in  time.  It  would  show  a fair 
and  square  average,  and  no  man  could  say  it  had 
done  more  or  less  than  its  duty.  But  a correct 
avearge  is  only  a mild  virtue  in  a watch  and  I took 
this  instrument  to  another  watchmaker.  He  said 
the  kingbolt  was  broke.  I said  I was  glad  it  was 
nothing  more  serious.  To  tell  the  plain  truth,  I 
had  no  idea  what  the  kingbolt  was,  but  I did  not 
choose  to  appear  ignorant  to  a stranger.  He  re- 
paired the  kingbolt,  but  what  the  watch  gained  in 
one  way  it  lost  in  another.  It  would  run  awhile 
and  then  stop  awhile,  and  then  run  awhile  again, 
and  so  on,  using  its  own  discretion  about  the  inter- 
vals. And  every  time  it  went  off  it  kicked  back 
like  a musket.  I padded  my  breast  for  a few  days. 


132 


THE  WORTHS 


but  finally  took  the  watch  to  another  watchmaker. 
tie  picked  it  all  to  pieces,  and  turned  the  ruin  over 
and  over  under  his  glass ; and  then  he  said  there 
seemed  to  be  something  the  matter  with  the  hair- 
trigger.  He  fixed  it  and  then  gave  it  a fresh  start. 
It  did  well  now,  except  that  always  at  ten  minutes 
to  ten  the  hands  would  shut  together  like  a pair  of 
scissors,  and  from  that  time  forth  they  would  travel 
together.  The  oldest  man  in  the  world  could  not 
make  out  the  time  of  day  by  such  a watch,  and  so 
I went  again  to  have  the  thing  repaired.  This  per- 
son said  that  the  crystal  had  got  bent,  and  that 
the  mainspring  was  not  straight.  He  also  re- 
marked that  part  of  the  works  needed  half-soling. 
He  made  these  things  all  right,  and  then  my  time- 
piece performed  unexceptionably,  save  that  now 
and  then  she  would  reel  off  The  next  twenty-four 
hours  in  six  or  seven  minutes,  and  then  stop  with 
a bang.  I went  with  a heavy  heart  to  one  more 
watchmaker,  and  looked  on  while  he  took  her  to 
pieces.  Then  I prepared  to  cross-question  him 
rigidly,  for  this  thing  was  getting  serious.  The 
watch  had  cost  two  hundred  dollars  originally,  and 
I seemed  to  have  paid  out  two  or  three  thousand 
for  repairs.  While  I waited  and  looked  on  I pres- 
ently recognized  in  this  watchmaker  an  old  ac- 
quaintance— a steamboat  engineer  of  other  days, 
and  not  a good  engineer  either.  He  examined  all 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


133 


the  parts  carefully,  just  as  the  other  watchmakers 
had  done,  and  then  delivered  his  verdict  with  the 
same  confidence  of  manner. 

He  said — 

“She  makes  too  much  steam — you  want  to  hang 
the  monkey-wrench  on  the  safety-valve!” 

I floored  him  on  the  spot. 

My  uncle  William  (now  deceased,  alas !)  used  to 
say  that  a good  horse  was  a good  horse  until  he 
had  run  away  once,  and  that  a good  watch  was  a 
good  watch  until  the  repairers  got  a chance  at  it. 

was  Bold  and  Bad. 

You  would  think  to  hear  him  talk  awhile  he  had 
fought  with  bear  and  crocodile. 

And  conquered  shark,  and  snake,  and  chimpan- 
zee; 

He  was  valiant,  brave,  and  mighty,  and  as  tough 
as  hgnum- vitae. 

Smart  as  lubricated  lightning  lunging  through 
immensity  1 

He  had  killed  and  tanned  a cannibal  (and  he  found 
him  very  tannable) 

And  had  slaughtered  many  a murd’rous  Esquimo ; 
He  had  thrust  his  livid  dagger  through  the  heart’s 
core  of  the  jaguar. 

Killed  a Patagonian  giant  before  breakfast, 
“Don’t  you  know!” 


THE  ^Y0RLD^8 


13  i 

But  despite  Parisian  Pasteur,  that  great  hydro- 
phobic master, 

A mad-dog  through  his  village  once  did  flee. 

And  he  had  such  fear  of  rabies  that  he  overturned 
two  babies. 

And  in  wild,  bareheaded  fury  rushed  to  climb 
the  nearest  tree ! 


In  fflOUl^NING. 

“Is  Miss in?” 

‘‘No,  miss.” 

“But  I saw  her  at  the  window  when  I drove  up.” 

“Very  likely,  miss,  but  you  see  Miss isn’t 

receiving  to-day.  Her  terrier  died  yesterday  and 
her  mourning  isn’t  ready.” 


©OULD  Stand  It  ip  OIales  ©ould. 

“What  are  you  going  to  have  for  supper.  Snob- 
son?” 

“I  want  a gwilled  mawow  bone  and  some  day- 
villed  kidneys,  deah  hoy.” 

“That’s  a pretty  heavy  supper,  isn’t  it,  old 
man?” 

“Cawn’t  help  it,  me  hoy.  It’s  what  Wales  goes 
in  faw  now,  and  weally,  you  know,  if  he  can  stand 
it  I guess  I can.” 


"and  her  mourning  isn’t  ready." 


p.  134. 


l?r?RARY 

OF 

uF  iul"'**! 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


i3^  ‘ 


If. 

If  we  had  lived  in  younger  days, 

When  minstrels  sang  their  ladies’  praise 
In  listening  courts  to  kings — . 

What  music  from  the  raptured  strings 
I then  had  won  to  name  her  face 
And  peerless  grace ! 

In  these  brave  days,  when  knightly  love 
Fared  forth  its  constancy  to  prove — 

If  we  had  lived,  how  gladly  I 
Had  faced  the  foe  and  tourney  cry 
To  meet  brave  death  or  (^k'thless  fame 
In  her  dear  name!^? ' v . ' ' > 

But  since  we  are  condemned  by  fate 
To  walk  the  earth  so  sadly  late — 

I lay  aside  both  lance  and  rhyme 
And  in  the  manner  of  the  time. 

To  prove  what  passion  in  me  thrills, 

I — pay  her  bills! 

K;n06I(-DOWN  fll^GUMENT. 

‘T  had  a knock-down  argument  with  the  super- 
intendent this  morning,”  said'  a street  car  conduc- 
tor to  an  acquaintance. 

“How  was  that?” 

“He  accused  me  of  knocking  down  fares  and  dis- 
charged me  on  the  spot.” 


. 136 


THE  WOHLD^S 


^AS  SHOGI^BD. 

Two  seconds  wait  upon  their  principal  to  give 
him  an  account  of  their  mission  to  his  adversary. 

“You  will  fight  with  pistols.” 

“Will  the  pistols  be  loaded?” 

“Parhleu,  of  course.” 

“With  bullets?” 

“Certainly,  yes!” 

Their  principal  frowns. 

“With  bullets ! But  I only  meant  a friendly  en- 
counter, and  not  a combat  of  savages.” — Galig- 
na n is  Messenger. . 


liOOI^ING  ©OMPANY. 

The  average  small  hoy  of  the  present  day  is  sel- 
dom at  a loss  tor  something  to  say,  even  in  the 
most  embarrassing  situations.  Bobby,  a precocious 
youth  of  6 summers,  had  been  indulging  in  profan- 
ity, and  in  order  to  escape  the  punishment  for  which 
his  mother  had  made  preparations  he  crawled  under 
a barn  and  remained  there  in  a state  of  siege  for 
the  greater  part  of  an  afternoon.  When  his  father 
returned  at  night  and  learned  how  matters  stood 
he  made  his  way  with  much  difficulty  under  the 
barn  in  search  of  the  hoy.  “Hello,  pa,”  said  Bobby 
cheerfully,  as  his  sire  approached,  “you  been  swear- 
ing, too?” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


137 


Segi^ets. 

‘‘Where  goest  thou  this  summer,  Fred, 

To  Europe  or  the  mountains? 

Wilt  seek  the  Newport  gayeties 
Or  Saratoga’s  fountains?” 

“Well,  no,  old  chappie,  I believe. 
Although  it’s  not  so  tony. 

That  I shall  take,  when  funds  allow,  . 

A day  off  down  at  Coney.” 

“And  you.  Miss  Vere  de  Yere,  which  spot 
Shalt  thou  this  summer  honor? 

Shall  Venice  from  a gondola 
Have  beauty  thrust  upon  her? 

Or,  say,  shall  lovers  in  Castile 

Sing  sonnets  neath  thy  casement?” 
“Hush!  Don’t  let  pussy  leave  the  bag; 
We  summer  in  the  basement.” 


©HI^EE  ©QUIETS. 

“My  master  is  courting  all  the  time  nowadays,” 
observed  a servant. 

“Indeed!  How’s  that?” 

“At  10  in  the  morning  he’s  in  the  police  court; 
at  1 he’s  in  the  divorce  court,  and  at  4 he  can  be 
found  in  the  tennis  court.” 


138 


THE  WORLDS  S 


r)B  Ratui^ally  Rel^t  I^LAYPUL. 

Lawyer  (joyfully) — How  do  you  feel  now? 
Condemned  Murderer.-^wlro-  lias  just  been  re- 
prieved)— As  playful  as  a child,  my  boy. 

Lawyer  (slapping^  him'  oil  the  hack) — Ah,  I see ; 
you  have  just  skipped  a rope. — The  Judge. 


Shby  Round  I^im  Guilty. 

In  defending  a client  a San  Bernardino  lawyer 
recently  remarked  to  the  jury:  “Gentlemen,  you 
would  not  send  a man  to  jail  for  a little  thing  hke 
this.  Why,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  if  some  of  you 
had  been  punished  for  the  little  offenses  you  have 
committed  you  would  be  in  the  penitentiary  to-day.” 
Strangely  enough,  the  jury  found  the  accused  guilty 
at  once. 


It  (Dade  a DiPPEf^ENGE. 

They  began  to  bore  for  natural  gas  in  a town  in 
southern  Ohio  last  winter,  the  business  being  in 
the  hands  of  a firm.  Inside  of  two  months  they 
declared  a dhddend  of  28  per  cent,  and  formed  a 
stock  company.  In  six  weeks  after  tliis  latter 
event  an  assessment  of  10  per  cent,  was  levied. 

‘T  want  to  know  how^  this  comes  about,”  de- 
manded an  indignant  stockholder,  “If  you  made 


‘‘"  * ^ t till 


It' 


rL-. 
s<  - 


at#/.  ■ ■ 


TAUGHT  THAT  FROG  TO  JUMP. 


P.  X4I. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


139 


28  per  cent,  profit  by  boring  down  200  feet,  how 
does  it  come  tliat  you  have  to  assess  us  at  400?” 

“Easy  enougli,”  answered  the  president.  “Tlie 
28  percent,  was  on  expectations;  tlie  assessment  is 
on  stern  reality.  Somebody’s  got  to  pay  for  those 
extra  200  feet.” 


©WAIN’S  GI^BAT  EP^OG  STOI^Y. 

In  compliance  with  the  request  of  a friend  of 
mine,  who  wrote  me  from  the  East,  I called  on 
good-natured,  garrulous  old  Simon  Wheeler,  and 
inquired  after  my  friend’s  friend,  Leonidas  W. 
Smiley,  as  requested  to  do,  and  I hereunto  append 
the  result. — I have  a lurking  suspicion  that  Leon- 
idas W.  Smiley  is  a myth;  that  my  friend  never 
knew  such  a personage,  and  that  he  only  conjec- 
tured that  if  I asked  old  Wheeler  about  him  it 
would  remind  him  of  his  infamous  Jim  Smiley,  and 
he  would  go  to  work  and  bore  me  to  death  with 
some  exasperating  reminiscence  of  him  as  long  and 
as  tedious  as  it  should  be  useless  to  me.  If  that 
was  the  design,  it  succeeded. 

I found  Simon  Wheeler  dozing  comfortably  by 
the  bar-room  stove  of  the  dilapidated  tavern  in  the 
decayed  mining  camp  of  Angel’s,  and  I noticed 
that  he  was  fat  and  bald-headed,  and  had  an  ex- 
pression of  winning  gentleness  and  simplicity  upon 


140 


THE  WORLDS 8 


his  tranquil  countenance.  He  roused  up,  and  gave 
me  good-day.  I told  him  a friend  of  mine  had 
commissioned  me  to  make  some  inquiries  about  a 
cherished  companion  of  his  boyhood  named  Leoni- 
das W.  Smiley,  — Bev.  Leonidas  W.  Smiley,  a 
young  minister  of  the  Gospel,  who  he  had  heard 
was  at  one  time  a resident  of  Angel’s  camp.  I 
added  that  if  Mr.  Wheeler  could  tell  me  anything 
about  this  Rev.  Leonidas  W.  Smiley,  I would  feel 
under  many  obligations  to  him. 

Simon  Wheeler  backed  me  into  a corner  and 
blockaded  me  there  with  his  chair,  and  then  sat 
down  and  reeled  off  the  monotonous  narrative 
which  follows  this  paragraph.  He  never  smiled, 
he  never  frowned,  he  never  changed  his  voice  from 
the  gentle-flowing  key  to  which  he  tuned  his  initial 
sentence,  he  never  betrayed  the  slightest  suspicion 
of  enthusiasm;  but  all  through  the  interminable 
narrative  there  ran  a vein  of  impressive  earnest- 
ness and  sincerity,  which  showed  me  plainly  that, 
so  far  from  his  imagining  that  there  was  anything 
ridiculous  or  funny  about  his  story,  he  regarded  it 
as  a really  important  matter,  and  admired  its  two 
heroes  as  men  of  transcendant  genius  in  finesse.  I 
let  him  go  on  in  his  own  way,  and  never  inter- 
rupted him  once. 

There  was  a feller  here  once  by  the  name  of  J im 
Smiley,  in  the  winter  of  ’49 — or  may  be  it  was  the 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


141 


spring  of  ’50 — I don’t  recollect  exactly,  somehow, 
though  what  makes  me  think  it  was  one  or  the 
other  is  because  I remember  the  big  flume  warn’t 
finished  when  he  first  come  to  the  camp ; but  any 
way,  he  was  the  curiosest  man  about,  always  bet- 
ting on  anything  that  turned  up  you  ever  see,  if  he 
could  get  anybody  to  bet  on  the  other  side ; and  if  he 
couldn’t  he’d  change  sides.  Any  way  that  suited 
the  other  man  would  suit  liivi — any  way  so’s  he 
got  a bet,  he  was  satisfied. 

Well,  this-yer  Smiley  had  rat-terriers,  and 
chicken  cocks,  and  tom-cats,  and  all  them  kind  of 
things,  till  you  couldn’t  rest,  and  you  couldn’t 
fetch  nothing  for  him  to  bet  on  hut  he’d  match  you. 
He  ketched  a frog  one  day,  and  took  him  home, 
and  said  he  cal’lated  to  educate  him : and  so  he 
never  done  nothing  for  three  months  but  set  in  his 
back  yard  and  learn  that  frog  to  jump. — And  you 
bet  you  he  did  learn  him,  too.  He’d  give  him  a 
little  punch  behind,  and  the  next  minute  you  see 
that  frog  whirling  in  the  air  like  a doughnut — see 
him  turn  one  summerset,  or  may  he  a couple,  if  he 
got  a good  start,  and  come  down  flat-footed  and  all 
right,  like  a cat.  He  got  him  up  so  in  the  matter 
of  ketching  flies,  ’an  kep’  him  in  practice  so  con-, 
stant,  tliat  lie’d  nail  a fly  every  time  as  fur  as  he 
could  see  him.  Smiley  said  all  a frog  wanted  was 
education,  and  lie  could  do  almost  anything — and 


142 


THE  WOBLD'^8 


I believe  him.  I’ve  seen  him  set  Dan’l  Web- 

ster down  here  on  this  floor — Dan’l  Webster  was 
the  name  of  the  frog — sing  ont,  ‘‘Flies,  Dan’l, flies !” 
and  quicker’!!  you  could  wink  he’d  spring  straight 
up  and  snake  a fly  ofl’n  the  counter  there,  and  flop 
down  on  the  floor  agin  as  solid  as  a gob  of  mud, 
and  fall  to  scratching  the  side  of  his  head  with  his 
hind  foot  as  indiflerent  as  if  he  hadn’t  no  idea  he’d 
been  doin’  any  more’n  any  frog  might  do. — You 
never  see  a frog  so  modesl  and  straightfor’ard  as 
he  was,  for  all  he  was  so  gifted.  And  when  it  come 
to  fair  and  square  jumping  on  a dead  level,  he 
could  get  over  more  ground  at  one  straddle  than 
any  animal  of  his  breed  you  ever  see.  Jumping  on 
a dead  level  was  his  strongest  suit,  you  understand ; 
and  when  it  come  to  that,  Smiley  would  ante  up 
the  money  on  him  as  long  as  he  had  a red.  Smiley 
was  monstrous  proud  of  his  frog,  and  well  he  might 
be,  for  fellers  that  have  traveled  and  been  every- 
wheres,  all  said  he  laid  over  any  frog  that  ever  they 
see. 

Well,  Smiley  kep’  the  beast  in  a little  lattice  box, 
and  he  used  to  fetch  him  down  town  sometimes 
and  lay  for  a bet.  One  day  a feller — a stranger  in 
the  camp,  he  was — come  across  him  with  his  box, 
and  says: 

“What  might  it  be  that  you’ve  got  in  the  box?” 

And  Smiley  says,  sorter  indiflerent-iike,  “It 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


might  be  a parrot,  or  it  might  be  a canary,  maybe, 
but  it  ain’t — its  only  just  a frog.” 

And  the  feller  took  it,  and  looked  at  it  careful, 
and  turned  it  round  this  way  and  that,  and  says, 
“H’m — so  ’tis.  Well,  what’s  he  good  for?” 

“Well,”  Smiley  says,  easy  and  careless,  “he’s  good 
enough  for  one  thing,  I should  judge — he  can  out- 
jump  any  frog  in  Calaveras  county.” 

The  feller  took  the  box  again,  and  took  another 
long,  particular  look,  and  gave  it  back  to  Smiley, 
and  says,  very  deliberate,  “Well,”  says  he,  “I  don’t 
see  no  p’ints  about  that  frog  that’s  any  better’n 
any  other  frog.” 

“May  be  you  don’t,”  Smiley  says.  “Maybe  you 
understand  frogs,  and  maybe  you  don’t  understand 
’em ; maybe  you’ve  had  experience,  and  maybe  you 
ain’t  only  an  amateur,  as  it  were. — Anyways,  Iv’e 
got  my  opinion,  and  I’ll  resk  forty  dollars  that  he 
can  outjump  any  frog  in  Calaveras  county.” 

And  the  feller  studied  a minute,  and  then  says, 
kinder  sad-like,  “Well,  I’m  only  a stranger  here, 
and  I ain’t  got  no  frog;  but  if  I had  a frog,  I’d  bet 
you.” 

And  then  Smiley  says,  “That’s  all  right — that’s 
all  right — if  you’ll  hold  my  box  a minute.  I’ll  go 
and  get  you  a frog.”  And  so  the  feller  took  the 
box,  and  put  up  his  forty  dollars  along  with  Smiley’s, 
^nd  set  down  to  wait. 


iJ4  THE  WORLDS 

So  he  set  there  a good  while  thinking  and  think- 
ing to  hisself,  and  then  lie  got  the  frog  out  and 
prised  his  mouth  ope^'ra:ncf  took  a teaspoon  and 
filled  him  full  of  quail  shot — filled  liini  pretty  near 
up  to  his  chin — and  set  him  on  the  floor.  Smiley 
he  went  to  the  swamp  and  slopped  around  in  the 
mud  for  a long  time,  and  finally  he  ketched  a frog, 
and  fetched  him  in,  and  give  him  to  this  feller,  and 
says : 

“Now,  if  you’re  ready,  set  him  alongside  of 
Dan’l,  with  his  fore-paws  just  even  Avith  Dan’l’s, 
and  I’ll  gh^e  the  Avord.”  Then  he  says,  “One — 
tAvo — three — git!'"  and  him  and  the  feller  touched 
up  the  frogs  from  behind,  and  the  iieAv  frog  hopped 
off  liA^ely,  hut  Dan’l  gNe  a heaA^e,  and  hysted  up 
his  shoulders — so — hke  a Frenchman,  hut  it  Avarn’t 
no  use — he  couldn’t  budge;  he  Avas  jilanted  as  sohd 
as  a church,  and  he  couldn’t  no  more  stir  than  if 
he  Avas  anchored  out.  Smiley  Avas  a good  deal 
surprised,  and  he  AA^as  disgusted  too,  hut  he  didn’t 
haA^e  no  idea  AAdiat  the  matter  Avas,  of  course. 

The  feller  took  the  money  and  started  aAvay ; and 
AAFen  he  AA’as  going  out  at  the  door,  he  sorter  jerked 
his  thumb  OA^er  his  shoulder — so — at  Dan’l,  and 
says  again,  \ei'y  dehberate,  “Well,”  he  says,  “I  don’t 
see  nop’ints  about  that  frog  that’s  any  hetter’n  any 
other  frog.” 

Smiley  he  stood  scratching  his  head  and  looking 


o.y/- 


T' 


CF  T*-r£ 


HE  BELCHED  OUT  A DOUBLE  HANDFUL  OF  SHOT. 


P.  145. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


145 


down  at  Dan’l  a long  time,  and  at  last  he  says,  “I 
do  wonder  what  in  the  nation  that  frog  throw’d  oh 
for — I wonder  if  their  ain’t  something  the  matter 
with  him — he  ’pears  to  look  mighty  baggy,  some- 
how.”— And  ketched  Dan’l  by  the  nap  of  the  neck, 
and  hefted  him,  and  says  “Why,  blame  my  cats  if 
he  don’t  weigh  five  pounds!”  and  turned  him  up- 
side down,  and  he  belched  out  a double  handful  of 
shot.  And  then  he  see  how  it  was,  and  he  was  the 
maddest  man — he  set  the  frog  down  and  took  out 
after  that  feller,  but  he  never  ketched  him.  And — ” 

[Here  Simon  Wheeler  heard  his  name  called 
from  the  front  yard,  and  got  up  to  see  what  was 
wanted.]  And  turning  to  me  as  he  moved  away, 
he  said,  “Just  set  where  you  are,  stranger,  and  rest 
easy — I ain’t  going  to  be  gone  a second.” 

But,  by  your  leave,  I did  not  think  that  a con- 
tinuation of  the  history  of  the  enterprising  vaga- 
bond J im  Smiley  would  be  likely  to  afford  me'much 
information  concerning  the  Kev.  Leonidas  JT, 
Smiley,  and  so  I started  away. 

gi^EGiSE  Outness. 

Justice  of  the  Peace — Did  the  prisoner  strike 
him  with  malice  aforethought? 

Witness — No,  your  honor.  He  hit  him  wid  his 
fisht. 

JO 


146 


THE  WORTHS 


OSGUIiAiPION. 

What  is  osculation,  dear? 

’Tis  an  aggregation  here 
Of  exquisite  sweetness 
Making  love’s  completeness; — 

Please  allow  me 
To  show  how  ye : — 

This — and  this — is  osculation ! 

— Eely  O'Malley, 


fiN  Debt. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  met  an  Irish  beggar  in  the 
street,  who  importuned  for  sixpence.  The  great 
unknown,  not  having  one,  gave  him  a shilling,  and 
said,  with  a laugh:  “Now,  remember,  you  owe  me 
sixpence.” 

“Och,  sure  enough,”  said  the  beggar,  “and  God 
grant  you  may  live  till  I pay  you!” 


©OLD  IN  (gONPIDENGE. 

^‘My  dear  Murphy,”  said  an  Irishman  to  his 
friend,  “why  did  you  betray  the  secret  I told  you?” 

‘Ts  it  betraying,  you  call  it?  Sure,  when  I found 
I wasn’t  able  to  keep  it  myself,  didn’t  I do  well  to 
tell  it  to  somebody  in  whose  ability  I had  more 
confidence  than  in  my  own?” 


TOLD  IN  CONFIDENCE. 


P.  146, 


IICTART 

OF  T'-'E 

y ,'>yrr,.,,  •/  ILU 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


147 


©HE  Bad  IimiJiiLB  Boy  who  Didn’jp  ©ome 
TO  Gf^iep. 

MAKK  TWAIN. 

Once  there  was  a bad  little  boy  whose  narne  was 
Jim ; though,  if  you  will  notice,  you  will  find  that 
bad  little  boys  are  nearly  always  called  James,  in 
your  Sunday  school  books.  It  was  very  strange, 
but  still  it  was  true,  that  this  one  was  called  Jim. 

He  didn’t  have  any  sick  mother,  either — a sick 
mother  who  was  pious,  and  had  the  consumption, 
and  would  be  glad  to  lie  dowm  in  a grave,  and  be 
at  rest,  but  for  the  strong  love  she  bore  her  boy, 
and  the  anxiety  she  felt  that  the  world  would  be 
harsh  and  cold  towards  him  when  she  was  gone. 
Most  had  boys  in  the  Sunday  School  books  are 
named  James,  and  have  sick  mothers  who  teach 
them  to  say,  “Now  I lay  me  down,”  etc.,  and  sing 
them  to  sleep  with  sweet,  plaintive  voices,  and  then 
kiss  them  good-night,  and  kneel  dowm  by  the  bedside 
and  weep.  But  it  was  different  with  this  fellow.  He 
was  named  Jim;  and  there  wasn’t  anything  the 
matter  with  his  mother — no  consumption,  or  any- 
thing of  that  kind.  She  was  rather  stout  than 
otherwise ; and  she  was  not  pious : moreover,  she 
was  not  anxious  on  Jim’s  account.  She  said  if 
he  were  to  break  his  neck,  it  wouldn’t  be  much 


THE  WORTHS 


loss.  She  always  spanked  Jim  to  sleep;  and  she 
never  kissed  him  good-night ; on  the  contrary,  she 
boxed  his  ears  when  she  was  ready  to  leave  him. 

Once  this  bad  little  boy  stole  the  key  of  the  pan- 
try, and  slipped  in  there,  and  helped  himself  to 
some  jam,  and  filled  up  the  vessel  with  tar,  so  that 
his  mother  would  never  know  the  difference ; but 
all  at  once  a terrible  feeling  didn’t  come  over  him, 
and  something  didn’t  seem  to  whisper  to  him,  “Is 
it  right  to  disobey  my  mother?  Isn’t  it  sinfnl  to 
do  this?  Where  do  bad  little  boys  go  who  gobble 
up  their  good,  kind  mother’s  jam?”  and  then  he 
didn’t  kneel  down  all  alone  and  promise  never  to 
be  wicked  any  more,  and  rise  up  with  a light,  hap- 
py heart,  and  go  and  tell  his  mother  all  about  it, 
and  beg  her  forgiveness,  and  be  blesed  by  her  with 
tears  of  pride  and  thankfulness  in  her  eyes.  No; 
that  is  the  way  with  all  other  bad  boys  in  the 
books;  but  it  happened  otherwise  with  this  Jim, 
strangely  enough.  He  ate  that  jam,  and  said  it 
was  buUy,  in  his  sinful,  vulgar  way;  and  he  put  in 
the  tar,  and  said  that  was  bully  also,  and  laughed, 
and  observed  that  “the  old  woman  would  get  up 
and  snort”  when  she  found  it  out;  and  when  she 
did  find  is  out,  he  denied  knowing  anything  about 
it ; and  she  whipped  him  severely ; and  he  did  the 
crying  himself.  Everything  about  this  boy  was 
curious ; everything  turned  out  differently  with  hirn 


HE  HELPED  HIMSELF  TO  SOME  JAM. 


P.  148, 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


149 


from  the  way  it  does  to  the  bad  Jameses  in  the 
books. 

Once  he  chmbed  up  in  Fari^o^d^corn’s  apple- 
tree  to  steal  apples;  and  the  limb  didn’t  break;  and 
he  didn’t  fall  and  break  his  arm,  and  get  torn  by 
the  farmer’s  great  dog,  and  then  languish  on  a sick 
bed  for  weeks,  and  repent  and  become  good.  Oh, 
no ! he  stole  as  many  apples  as  he  wanted,  and 
came  down  all  right ; and  he  was  all  ready  for  the 
dog,  too,  and  knocked  him  endways  with  a rock 
when  he  came  to  tear  him.  It  was  very  strange; 
nothing  like  it  ever  happened  in  those  mild  little 
books  with  marbled  backs,  and  with  pictures  in 
them  of  men  with  swallow- tailed  coats,  and  bell- 
crowned  hats,  and  pantaloons  that  are  short  in  the 
legs ; and  women  with  the  waists  of  their  dresses 
under  their  arms,  and  no  hoops  on — nothing  hke  it 
in  any  of  the  Sunday  school  books. 

Once  he  stole  the  teacher’s  penknife,  and  when 
he  was  afraid  it  would  be  found  out,  and  he  would 
get  whipped,  he  slipped  it  into  George  Wilson’s 
cap — poor  widow  Wilson’s  son,  the  moral  boy,  the 
good  little  boy  of  the  village,  who  always  obeyed 
his  mother,  and  never  told  an  untruth,  and  was 
fond  of  his  lessons  and  infatuated  with  Sunday 
school.  And  when  the  knife  dropped  from  the  cap, 
and  poor  George  hung  his  head  and  blushed  as  if 
in  conscious  guilt,  and  the  grieved  teacher  charged 


_ 150 


THE  WORTHS 


the  theft  upon  him,  and  was  just  in  the  very  act  of 
bringing  the  switch  dowm  upon  his  trembhng 
shoulders,  a white-haired  improbable  justice  of  the 
peace  did  not  suddenly  appear  in  their  midst,  and 
strike  an  attitude,  and  say,  ‘‘Spare  this  noble  boy; 
there  stands  the  cowering  culprit.  I was  passing 
the  school-door  at  recess,  and,  unseen  myself,  I 
saw  the  theft  committed.”  And  then  Jim  didn’t 
get  whaled;  and  the  venerable  justice  didn’t  read 
the  tearful  school  a homily,  and  take  George  by 
the  hand,  and  say  such  a hoy  deserved  to  be  ex- 
alted, and  then  tell  him  to  come  and  make  his  home 
with  him,  and  sweep  out  the  office,  and  make  fires, 
and  run  errands,  and  chop  wood,  and  study  law, 
and  help  his  wife  to  do  household  labors,  and  have 
all  the  balance  of  the  time  to  play,  and  get 'forty 
cents  a month,  and  be  happy.  No;  it  would  have 
happened  that  way  in  the  books ; but  it  didn’t  hap- 
pen that  way  to  Jim.  No  meddling  old  clam  of  a 
justice  dropped  in  to  make  trouble,  and  so  the 
model  boy  George  got  thrashed ; and  Jim  was  glad 
of  it,  because,  you  know,  Jim  hated  moral  boys. 
Jim  said  he  was  “down  on  them  milksops.”  Such 
was  the  coarse  language  of  this  bad,  neglected  boy. 

But  the  strangest  things  that  ever  happened  to 
Jim  was  the  time  he  went  boating  on  Sunday  and 
didn’t  get  drowned,  and  that  other  time  that  he  got 
.caught  out  in  the  storm  when  he  was  fishing  on 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


151 


Sunday,  and  didn’t  get  struck  by  lightning.  Why, 
you  might  look  and  look  and  look  through  the  Sun- 
day school  books  from  now  till  next  Christmas,  and 
you  would  never  come  across  anything  like  this. 
Oh,  no ! You  would  find  that  all  the  bad  boys  who 
go  boating  on  Sunday  invariably  get  drowned ; and 
all  the  bad  boys  who  get  caught  out  in  storms 
when  they  are  fishing  on  Sunday  invariably  get 
struck  by  lightning.  Boats  with  bad  boys  in  them 
always  upset  on  Sunday;  and  it  always  storms 
when  bad  boys  go  fishing  on  the  Sabbath.  How 
this  Jim  ever  escaped  is  a mystery  to  me. 

This  Jim  bore  a charmed  life;  that  must  have 
been  the  way  of  it.  Nothing  could  hurt  him.  He 
even  gave  the  elephant  in  the  menagerie  a plug  of 
tobacco;  and  the  elephant  didn’t  knock  the  top  of 
his  head  ofi  with  his  trunk.  He  browsed  around 
the  cupboard  after  essence  of  peppermint,  and 
didn’t  make  a mistake  and  drink  aqua-fortis.  He 
stole  his  father’s  gun,  and  went  hunting  on  the 
Sabbath,  and  didn’t  shoot  three  or  four  of  his  fin- 
gers off. 

He  struck  his  little  sister  on  the  temple  with  his 
fist  when  he  was  angry;  and  she  didn’t  linger  in 
pain  through  long  summer  days,  and  die  with  sweet 
words  of  forgiveness  upon  her  lips  that  redoubled 
the  anguish  of  his  breaking  heart.  No;  she  got 
over  it.  He  ran  off  and  went  to  sea  at  last,  and 


152 


THE  W0BLH8 


didn’t  come  back  and  find  himself  sad  and  alone  in 
the  world,  his  loved  ones  sleeping  in  the  quite 
churchyard,  and  the  vine-embowered  home  of  his 
boyhood  tumbled  down  and  gone  to  decay.  Ah, 
no ! he  came  home  drunk  as  a piper,  and  got  into' 
the  station-house  the  first  thing. 

And  he  grew  up,  and  married,  and  raised  a large 
family,  and  brained  them  all  with  an  axe  one  night, 
and  got  wealthy  by  all  manner  of  cheating  and  ras- 
cality; and  now  he  is  the  infernalest,  wickedest 
scoundrel  in  his  native  village,  and  is  universally 
respected,  and  belongs  to  the  legislature. 

So  you  see  there  never  was  a bad  James  in  the 
Sunday  school  books  that  had  such  a streak  of  luck 
as  this  sinful  Jim  with  the  charmed  hfe. 


I^AF^TINGTON’S  ©I^IP. 

“I  think,”  said  Mrs.  Partington,  getting  up  from 
the  breakfast-table,  will  take  a tower,  or  go  upon 
a disciirsion.  The  bill  says,  if  I collect  rightl}^,  that 
a party  is  to  go  to  a very  plural  spot,  and  to  mis- 
take of  a cold  collection.  . I hope  it  won’t  be  so 
cold  as  ours  was  for  the  poor  last  Sunday;  why, 
there  wasn’t  efficient  to  buy  a feet  of  wood  for  a 
restitute  widder.”  And  the  old  lady  put  on  her 
calash. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


153 


P r^EAip  I^EPLY. 

An  Irish  officer  in  the  French  service  solicited 
the  king  for  some  favor  for  a friend.  The  monarch, 
being  in  an  angry  mood,  exclaimed,  ‘T  find  you 
Irishmen  very  troublesome.” 

“Your  enemies,  sire,  make  the  same  remark,” 
replied  the  officer,  which  so  pleased  the  king  that 
the  favor  requested  was  granted  at  once. 


(?osH  Billings’  ^Idyige  ipo  a Hew  @hoii^- 

SlNGEF^. 


Dear  Miss  : This  is  an  important  epock  into 
your  life.  The  first  thing  to  make  a good  quire 
singer  is  to  giggle  a little. 

Put  your  hair  in  cirl  papers  every  Friday  nite 
soze  to  have  it  in  good  shape  Sunday  morning.  If 
your  daddy  is  rich  you  can  buy  some  store  hair. 
If  he  is  very  rich  buy  some  more  and  build  it  up 
high  onto  your  head ; then  get  a high-priced  bunnit 
that  runs  up  very  high  at  the  high  part  of  it,  and 
get  the  milliner  to  plant  some  high-grown  artificials 
onto  the  highest  part  of  it.  This  will  help  you  sing 
high,  as  soprano  is  the  highest  part. 

When  the  tune  is  giv  out,  don’t  pay  attention  to 
it^  and  then  giggle.  Gdggle  a good  eel. 

Whisper  to  the  girl  next  you  that  Em  Jones, 
which  sets  on  the  2d  seet  from  the  front  on  the 


154 


THE  ^YOBLHS 


left-hand  side,  has  lier  bimnit  ^Yith  the  same  color 
exact  she  had  last  year,  and  then  put  your  hook  to 
your  face  and  giggle. 

Object  to  every  tim^iJIe^s  there  is  a solow  into 
it  for  the  soprano.,. , Coff  and  hem  ^ good  eel  before 
you  begin  to  sing. 

When  you  sing  a solow  shake  the  artificials  ofl 
your  bunnit,  and  when  you  come  to  a high  tone 
brace  yourself  back  a little,  twist  your  head  to  one 
side,  and  open  your  mouth  the  widest  on  that  side, 
shet  the  e3^es  on  the  same  side  just  a triphle,  and 
then  put  in  for  dear  life. 

When  the  preacher  gets  under  bed  wa}^  with  his 
preachin,  write  a note  on  the  blank  leaf  into  the 
fourth  part  of  ^mur  note  hook.  That’s  what  the 
blank  leaf  was  made  for.  Git  sumhody  to  pass  the 
note  to  sumhody  else,  and  you  watch  them  while 
they  read  it,  and  then  giggle. 

If  an^Tody  talks  or  laffs  in  the  congregashun, 
and  the  preacher  takes  notis  of  it,  that’s  a goot 
chants  for  3^011  to  giggle,  and  you  ought  to  giggle 
a great  eel.  The  preacher  darsent  say  an3Thing  to 
3mu  bekaus  3^11  are  in  the  quire,  and  he  can’t  run 
the  meetin’  house  at  both  ends  without  the  quire. 
If  3^11  had  a bow  before  3^011  went  into  the  quire, 
give  him  the  mitten, — 3^11  ought  to  have  somehod3’ 
better  now. 

Don’t  forget  to  giggle. 


uBiunr 

..  , TNE 
B.'’/rr’£:;Tir  cp  itupon? 


THE  MEDDLESOME  DUCKS. 


P-  155- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


155 


©HE  fflEDDLBSOMB  DUGI^S. 

“Mike,  why  don’t  you  fire  at  those  ducks?  Don’t 
you  see  you  have  got  the  whole  flock  before  your 
gun?” 

“Sure,  I know  I have;  but,  Avhin  I get  good  aim 
at  wan,  two  or  thra  others  will  swim  roight  be- 
twixt it  an’  me.” 


SUGGBSS  Small 

BUKDETTE. 

Formerly  the  blackberry  was  regarded  as  merely 
a bramble  in  this  country.  It  is. still  quite  gener- 
ally so  regarded.  When  a man  gets  to  thinking  it 
is  not  a bramble,  all  he  has  to  do  is  to  go  waltzing 
around  in  a healthy  patch,  with  nothing  on  him 
but  a cotton  shirt  and  a pair  of  tow  trousers,  and  he 
will  come  out  restored  to  the  faith  of  his  fathers. 
The  greatest  enemy  the  blackberry  has  is  boys.  Five 
boys,  from  town,  can  eat  more  green  blackberries 
in  a day  than  would  ripen  in  a week.  For  many 
years  the  great  desideratum  has  been  a hardy  berry 
that  could  resist  the  premature  onslaught  of  boys 
from  the  town.  It  is  a great  desideratum  still. 
The  Schneider,  a variety  that  was  invented  by  an 
Iowa  horticulturist,  is  the  nearest  approach  to  it. 
It  is  a bred  from  a perfectly  green  persimmon, 


156 


THE  WORLDS S 


crossed  with  a dog-wood  tree,  and  still  further  prop- 
agated with  a hybrid  of  wormwood-bush  and  crab- 
apple.  It  is  not  a perfect  defense,  but  there  are 
very  few  boys  who  care  to  eat  more  than  a quart  of 
them.  Nobody  else,  however,  can  go  past  the  field 
where  the  Schneider  is  growing,  without  being  at- 
tacked with  Asiatic  cholera,  and  this  tends  to 
weaken  the  partial  success  this  hardy  berry  has 
achieved.  Then  there  is  a bug — I do  not  know 
the  name  of  it — that  crawls  over  the  berries  now 
and  then.  When  you  eat  a berry  that  has  been 
glorified  by  a visit  from  this  bug,  you  lie  down  in 
the  briers  and  pray  Heaven  to  take  you  home  in 
just  about  three  seconds.  And,  if  you  five,  you 
can  wake  up  in  the  night,  along  in  the  middle  of 
the  next  winter,  and  shudder  as  you  taste  of  that 
berry. 

When  your  blackberries  grow  too  thickly,  you 
will  want  to  thin  them  out.  To  this  end  you  must 
kill  some  of  them.  This  can  be  done  by  digging  a 
well  where  the  plant  stands,  then  turn  the  farm 
upside  down  and  let  it  dry  out  thoroughly  for  a 
couple  of  years,  and  then  turn  it  over,  upside  down, 
and  start  a brick-yard  on  the  back  of  it.  This  wiU 
kill  off  some  of  the  plants.  There  may  be  some 
shorter  and  cheaper  method  of  killing  blackberry 
bushes  than  this,  but  I never  heard  of  it,  and  it 
isn’t  likely  that  there  is  any. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


157 


If  you  want  to  devote  about  forty  acres  of  ground 
to  the  cultivation  of  blackberries,  plant  about  three 
healthy  vines  in  some  corner  of  the  field,  about  the 
1st  of  April.  Then,  about  the  1st  of  May,  the  man 
who  owns  the  farm  on  the  other  side  of  the  road 
will  bring  civil  action  against  you,  and  try  to  collect 
damages  for  destruction  of  his  two  fields  of  wheat 
by  a raid  of  blackberry  vines. 

It  is  not  known  just  at  what  season  of  the  year 
blackberries  ripen.  The  blackberry  has  never  been 
known  to  ripen.  If  the  hucksters  and  boys  should 
all  die  in  June,  it  is  probable  that  the  berries  would 
ripen  some  time  in  July  or  August.  But  they  have 
never  had  a chance  to  see  what-  they  could  do  at 
ripening. 

The  blackberry  is  so  named  because  it  is  blue,  in 
order  to  distinguish  it  from  the  blueberry,  which  is 
black. — Burlington  Hatvheye. 


©WAIN  ON  JPHE  flNT. 

In  his  ‘‘Tramp  Abroad,”  Mark  says;  “Now  and 
then,  while  we  rested,  we  watched  the  laborious 
ant  at  his  work.  I found  nothing  new  in  him — 
certainly  nothing  to  change  my  opinion  of  him.  It 
seems  to  be  that  in  the  matter  of  intellect  the  ant 
must  be  a strangely  overrated  bird.  During  many 
summers  now  I have  watched  him,  when  I ought 


158 


THE  W0RLH8 


to  have  been  in  better  business,  and  I have  not  yet 
come  across  a living  ant  that  seemed  to  have  any 
more  sense  than  a dead  one.  I refer  to  the  ordi- 
nary ant,  of  course;  I have  bad  no  experience  of 
those  wonderful  Swiss  and  African  ones  which  vote, 
keep  drilled  armies,  hold  slaves,  and  dispute  about 
religion.  Those  particular  ants  may  he  all  that  the 
naturalists  paint  them,  but  I am  persuaded  that 
the  average  ant  is  a sham.  I admit  his  industry, 
of  course;  he  is  the  hardest- working  creature  in 
the  world — when  anybody  is  looking — but  his 
leather-headeduess  is  the  point  I make  against  him. 
He  goes  out  foraging,  he  makes  a capture,  and  then 
what  does  he  do?  Go  home?  No,  he  goes  any- 
where hut  home.  He  doesn’t  knowAvhere  home  is. 
His  home  may  be  only  three  feet  away ; no  matter, 
he  can’t  find  it. 

“He  makes  his  capture,  as  I have  said;  it  is  gen- 
erally something  that  can  be  of  no  sort  of  use  to 
himself  or  anybody  else ; it  is  usually  seven  times 
bigger  than  it  ought  to  be;  he  hunts  out  the  awk- 
wardest  place  to  take  hold  of ; he  lifts  it  bodily  up 
in  the  air  by  main  force,  and  starts — not  toward 
home,  but  in  the  opposite  direction;  not  calmly 
and  wisely,  but  with  a frantic  haste  which  is  waste- 
ful of  his  strength;  he  fetches  up  against  a pebble, 
and,  instead  of  going  around  it,  he  climbs  over  it 
backwards,  dragging  his  booty  after  him,  tumbles 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


159 


down  the  other  side,  jumps  up  in  a passion,  kicks 
the  dust  off  his  clothes,  moistens  his  hands,  grabs 
his  property  viciously,  yanks  it  this  way,  then  that, 
shoves  it  ahead  of  him  a moment,  turns  tail  and 
lugs  it  after  him  another  moment,  gets  madder  and 
madder,  then  presently  hoists  it  into  the  air  and 
goes  tearing  away  in  an  entirely  new  direction: 
comes  to  a weed;  it  never  occurs  to  him  to  go 
around  it.  No;  he  must  climb  it,  and  he  does 
climb  it,  dragging  his  worthless  property  to  the  top 
— which  is  as  bright  a thing  to  do  as  it  would  be 
for  me  to  carry  a sack  of  flour  from  Heildelberg  to 
Paris  by  way  of  Strasburg  steeple ; when  he  gets 
up  there  he  finds  that  that  is  not  the  place ; takes 
a cursory  glance  at  the  scenery,  and  either  climbs 
down  again  or  tumbles  down,  and  starts  off  once 
more — as  usual,  in  a new  direction. 

“At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  he  fetches  up  within 
six  inches  of  the  place  he  started  from,  and  lays  his 
burden  down.  Meantime  he  has  been  over  all  the 
ground  for  two  yards  round,  and  climbed  all  the 
weeds  and  pebbles  he  came  across.  Now  he  wipes 
the  sweat  from  his  brow,  strokes  his  limbs,  and 
then  marches  aimlessly  off,  in  as  violent  a hurry 
as  ever.” 


/ 


160 


TEE  ^YORLD^S 


Bi^o.  Gai^dnei^’s  Lcimei^iln  Glub. 

“Las  nite,  soon  arter  de  bells  struck  ’leben,”  be- 
gan the  old  man  as  the  meeting  opened,  “some 
pusson  to  me  unknown  hurled  a ten-poun’  rock 
agin  my  front  doah.  By  de  time  I could  get  outer 
bed  an’  git  my  collar  an’  neck-tie  on  de  said  pusson 
had  made  his  escape.  I has  libed  in  dis  town  risin’ 
of  nineteen  y’ars,  an’  dis  am  de  fust  time  I war 
eber  disturbed.  It  shows  dat  sounthin’  said  heah 
agin  some  of  de  bad  habits  which  some  of  our  cullud 
folkses  has  fallen  into  has  hit  de  mark  an’  gone 
home.  I shall,  howsumbeber,  keep  right  on  talkin’ 
to  de  bes’  ob  my  ability,  and  would  furder  add  dat 
if  I cotch  any  low-down  man  in  de  act  of  bangin’ 
my  house  wid  a rock,  I shall,  for  de  space  of  de 
succeedin’-  seben  minnits,  forgit  dat  I eber  jined  de 
church  or  rung  de  bell  for  de  Thursday  ebenin’ 
prayer-meetin’.  I menshun  dis  circumstance  simply 
bekase  dar  was  a report  on  de  streets  yesterday  dat 
a murderer  had  broken  inter  my  cabin  an’  killed 
de'  ole  woman  an’  crippled  me  for  life.  We  will 
now  purceed  wid  de  straightaiged  order  of  busi- 
ness.” 

The  Committee  on  Agriculture  submitted  the 
following  well- written  report : ' 

Whak’as,  Great  big  red-cored  watermellyons 
from  de  Stait  of  Alabama  hev  made  dar  ’pearance 
in  market;  an’. 


BRO.  GARDNER. 


P.  160. 


li.  ’Tyrr- 


Of  TS'£ 

• ‘ Cf 


V. 


■d 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


161 


Whar’as,  De  openin’  of  de  mellyon  seznn  am  an 
occashnn  fur  gineral  rejoicin’  ’mong  de  cnllud  pop- 
nlashnn;  now,  darforte, 

Resolved^  Dat  dis  Club  does  hereby  rejoice  an’ 
sonn’  de  loud  cimball  in  honor  of  de  event. 

The  report  and  resolution  were  accepted,  and  the 
janitor  was  instructed  to  see  that  the  next  meeting 
was  supplied  with  at  least  ten  large  and  well  de- 
veloped specimens  of  the  watermelon  tribe. 

A communication  from  the  office  of  the  Secretary 
of  the  State  of  Indiana,  signed  “per  Smith,”  in- 
quired if  the  Limekiln  Club  was  in  harmony  with 
an  Indianapolis  organization  known  as  “The  Dusky 
Knights  of  Honor.”  The  said  Association  had  been 
getting  trusted  for  crackers  and  herrings  on  the 
strength  of  being  a branch  lodge  of  the  Detroit 
Club. 

The  Secretary  was  instructed  to  repudiate  the 
organization,  tooth  and  nail,  and  to  forward  a postal 
card  to  every  Limekilner  in  Indiana,  warning  him 
to  beware  of  it. 

Some  time  since  the  relations  between  pastor 
and  congregation  in  a certain  colored  church  in 
Michigan  became  so  inharmonious  that  it  became 
necessary  to  bounce  one  party  or  the  other.  At  a 
church  meeting  the  preacher  was  called  a liar,  and 
in  return  he  upset  a deacon  with  a blow  on  the 


11 


162 


THE  WORTH  8 


jaw.  It  was  decided  to  submit  the  case  to  Brother 
Gardner  in  the  following  form : 

“ ’Sposen  you  was  a preacher  of  de  gospel,  an’ 
de  leadin’  elder  of  your  church  called  you  a liar?” 
Would  you  hit  him  or  forgib  him?” 

“If  dey  wants  my  opinyun  on  dat  case  it  can 
soon  be  gibben,”  said  the  old  man  as  he  rose  up. 
“It  I war  a preacher  of  de  gospel  an’  de  leadin’ 
elder,  or  any  odder  elder,  called  me  a liah,  an’  he 
war  in  dead  airnest,  I’d  light  down  on  him  like  an 
elefant  rollin’  ober  a lamb!  Yes  I would,  an’  den 
I’d  ax  him  if  he  had  any  friends  who  wanted  to  see 
me  wid  my  coat  off  an’  my  muscle  worked  up.  I 
doan  go  a cent  on  de  man  who  gets  such  a fill  of 
religion  dat  folks  can  make  a foot-ball  of  him.” 

George  Washington  Harmony,  of  Kichmond, 
Va.,  forwarded  a communication  to  the  effect  that 
he  was  the  inventor  of  a patent  whitewash  brush 
wdiich  worked  by  means  of  a crank  and  hopper,  and 
in  case  his  expenses  were  paid  to  Detroit  and  back 
he  would  deliver  three  lectures  on  the  patent,  and 
present  one  to  the  Club.  He  further  inquired  if 
the  membership  tickets  used  by  the  Club  would 
admit  the  bearer  into  a circus. 

The  Secretary  was  instructed  to  write  for  a cut 
of  the  invention,  and  to  reply  to  the  last  inquiry 
that  an  arrangement  had  been  proposed  by  Barnum, 
but  the  contract  had  not  yet  been  signed.  It  may 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


163 


be  stated  here  that  the  tattoed  man  is  an  honorary 
member  of  the  Club,  and  that  Mr.  Barnum  has 
promised  to  present  it  with  a stuffed  giraffe  at  the 
earliest  possible  day. 

A favorable  opportunity  having  presented  itself, 
the  Glee  Club  wrestled  with  the  following,  which 
Giveadam  Jones  composed  several  weeks  since, 
and  which  he  wanted  sung  as  an  experiment : 

Experience  has  amply  proved. 

And  the  fiat  of  the  Medical 
Faculty  authenticates  the 
Statement,  that  quinine  is 

The  most  reliable  specific 
For  malarial  fevers  and  a 
Tonic  and  nervine  of  singular 
Efficiency.  In  its  usual 

Form  the  bitterness  of  the  fla- 
vor constitutes  an  objection 
To  it  with — ” 

At  this  point  the  President’s  gavel  came  down 
with  such  a bang  that  the  musician  who  was  play- 
ing the  fastest  and  singing  the  loudest  was  nearly 
upset.  Inquiries  were  made  as  to  the  author  of  the 
poem,  and  Mr.  Jones  was  walked  to  the  front  and 
asked  to  explain.  A few  words  convinced  him  that 


164 


THE  \yORLHS 


his  experiment  was  a failure,  and  lie  was  warned 
that  any  further  public  efforts  on  his  part  to  add  to 
the  harmony  of  tlie  proceedings  by  song-writing 
would  give  him  a seat  on  the  hack  benches. 

The  Committee  on  Internal  Improvements  here 
announced  their  readiness  to  make  a special  report. 
Some  days  since  Brother  Samuel  Shin,  one  of  the 
charter  members  of  the  club,  was  charged  with 
drunkenness,  and  the  committee  was  instructed  to 
investigate  and  bring  their  findings  before  the 
lodge.  The  report  was  as  follows : 

“De  charge  was  dat  on  a certain  day  an’  date 
Brudder  Shin  was  noticed  to  fall  down  five  times 
while-  gwine  from  a certain  butcher-shop  to  his 
house,  a distance  of  two  blocks.  Fo’  white  men 
an’  a boy  testified  to  dis  lack  befo’  dis  committee. 
Brudder  Shin  came  befo’  dis  committee  wid  de 
statement  dat  when  de  wind  am  in  de  east  and  de 
air  full  o’  ’lectricity  he  am  subject  to  blindness,  as 
was  de  case  dat  day.  His  statement  am  s 'ported 
by  his  wife  an’  dorter,  who  hev  eben  known  him  to 
fall  down  on  de  doah-step  at  midnight.  Dis  com- 
mittee, takin’  all  fings  inter  considerashun,  hez 
arrove  at  de  conclushun  dat  Brudder  Shin  hez 
cl’ared  hisself  of  de  charge  of  drunkenness,  an’  do 
so  report.” 

There  was  deep  silence  for  half  a minute,  and 
then  Brother  Gardner  quietly  observed : 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


165 


“Brudder  Shin,  you  hev  bin  investigated  an' 
cl’ared  of  de  charge,  but  in  de  fucher  I want  you 
to  keep  your  eye  on  de  wedder- vanes  aimin’  town, 
an’  when  you  see  de  wind  shiftin’  do  you  make 
tracks  fur  hum.  We  will  now  dissolve. — Detroit 
Free  Press. 


©WAIN’S  I^EMAI^I(ABLB  GOLD  ffliNES. 

I have  just  seen  your  dispatch  from  San  Fran- 
cisco in  Saturday’s  Evening  Post  about  gold  in 
solution  in  Calistoga  Springs,  and  about  the  pro- 
prietor having  extracted  $1,600  in  gold  of  the 
utmost  fineness  from  ten  barrels  of  water,  during 
the  past  fortnight,  by  a process  known  only  to  him- 
self. 

This  will  surprise  many  of  your  readers,  but  it 
does  not  surprised  me,  for  I once  owned  these 
springs  myself.  What  does  surprise  me,  however, 
is  the  tailing  off  in  richness  of  the  water.  In  my 
time,  the  yield  was  a dollar  a dipperful.  I am  not 
saying  this  to  injure  the  property  in  case  a sale  is 
contemplated.  I am  saying  it  in  the  interest  of 
history.  It  may  be  that  this  hotel  proprietor’s  pro- 
cess may  be  an  inferior  one.  Yes,  that  may  be  the 
fault.  Mine  was  to  take  my  uncle  (I  had  an  extra 
at  that  time,  on  account  of  his  parents  dying  and 
leaving  him  on  my  hands)  and  fill  him  up  and  let 


166 


THE  VrORLD'^S 


him  stand  fifteen  minutes,  to  give  the  water  a 
chance  to  settle.  Well,  then  I insert  him  in  an 
exhausted  receiver,  which  had  the  effect  of  sucking 
gold  out  through  his  pores.  I have  taken  more 
than  $11,000  out  of  that  old  man  in  a day  and  a 
half. 

I should  have  held  on  to  those  springs  but  for  the 
badness  of  the  roads  and  the  difficulty  of  getting 
the  gold  to  market.  I consider  that  the  gold-yield- 
ing water  is  in  many  repects  remarkable,  and  yet 
no  more  remarkable  than  the  gold-bearing  air  of 
Catgut  Canon,  up  there  toward  the  head  of  the 
auriferous  range.  This  air  or  this  wind,  for  it  is  a 
kind  of  trade  wind  which  blows  steadily  down 
through  600  miles  of  the  richest  quartz  croppings 
during  an  hour  and  a quarter  every  day,  except 
Sundays,  is  heavily  charged  with  exquisitely  fine, 
impalpable  gold. 

Nothing  precipitates  and  solidifies  this  gold  so 
readily  as  contact  with  human  flesh  heated  by  pas- 
sion. The  time  that  William  x\brahams  was  dis- 
appointed in  love  he  used  to  step  out  doors  when 
that  wind  was  blowing,  and  come  in  again  and 
begin  to  sigh,  and  I would  extract  over  a dollar 
and  a half  out  of  every  sigh.  He  sighed  right 
along,  and  the  time  that  John  Harbison  and  Aleck 
Norton  quarreled  about  Harbison ’s  dog  they  stood 
there  swearing  at  each  other ; and  they  knew  how, 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


167 


and  what  they  did  not  know  about  swearing  they 
couldn’t  learn  from  you  and  me,  not  by  a good 
deal,  and  at  the  end  of  every  three  or  four  minutes 
they  had  to  stop  and  make  a dividend.  If  they 
didn’t  their  jaws  would  clog  up  so  that  they  couldn’t 
get  big  nine- syllabled  ones  out  at  all,  and  when  the 
wind  was  done  blowing  they  cleared  up  just  a little 
over  $1,600  apiece.  I know  these  facts  to  be  ab- 
solutely true,  because  I got  them  from  a man  whose 
mother  I knew  personally. 

I did  not  suppose  a person  could  buy  the  water- 
privilege  at  Calistoga  now  at  any  price,  but  several 
good  locations  along  the  course  of  the  Catgut 
Canon  gold-bearing  trade-wind  are  for  sale.  They 
are  going  to  be  stocked  for  the  New  York  market. 
They  will  sell,  too ; people  will  swarm  for  them  as 
thick  as  Hancock  veterans  in  the  South. 

Makk  Twain. 


Faithless  Sally  Bi^own. 

Young  Ben  he  was  nice  young  man,  a carpentei’ 
by  trade;  and  he  fell  in  love  with  Sally  Brown, 
that  was  a lady’s  maid.  But  as  they  fetched  a 
walk  one  day,  they  met  a press-gang  crew;  and 
Sally  she  did  faint  away,  while  Ben  he  was  brought 
to. 

The  boatswain  swore  with  wicked  words  enough 


168 


THE  WOBLD'^S 


to  shock  a saint,  that  though  she  did  seem  in  a fit, 
’twas  nothing  but  a feint. 

“Come,  girl,”  said  he,  “hold  up  your  head — he’ll 
be  as  good  as  me ; for  when  your  swain  is  in  our 
boat,  a boatswain  he  will  be.” 

So  when  they’d  made  their  game  of  her,  and 
taken  off  her  elf,  she  roused,  and  found  she  only 
was  a-coming  to  herself. 

“And  is  he  gone,  and  is  he  gone?”  she  cried  and 
wept  outright;  “then  I will  to  the  water- side  and 
see  him  out  of  sight.” 

A waterman  came  up  to  her:  ‘‘Now,  young 
woman,”  said  he,  “if  you  weep  on  so,  you  will  make 
eye-water  in  the  sea.” 

“Alas!  they’ve  taken  my  beau,, Ben,  to  sail  with 
old  Benbow;”  and  her  woe  began  to  run  afresh,  as 
if  she’d  said  “Gee  woe!” 

Says  he,  “They’ve  only  taken  him  to  the  tender 
ship,  you  see.”  “The  tender  ship!”  cried  Sally 
Brown — “what  a hardship  that  must  be!  Oh! 
would  I were  a mermaid  now,  for  then  I’d  follow 
him;  but  oh!  I’m  not  a fish-woman,  and  so  I can- 
not swim.  Alas!  I was  not  born  beneath  the  Vir- 
gin and  the  Scales,  so  I must  curse  my  cruel  stars 
and  walk  about  in  Wales.” 

Now  Ben  had  sailed  to  many  a place  that’s 
underneath  the  world ; but  in  two  years  the  ship 
came  home,  and  all  her  sails  were  furled.  But 


"BUT  OH,  i’m  not  a FISH-WOMAN  ! 


P.  l68. 


U.  '”/rr 


/' 

f 


■<r<^ 


wrr  AND  WITS, 


169 


when  he  called  on  Sally  Brown,  to  see  how  she  got 
on,  he  found  she’d  got  another  Ben,  whose  Christ- 
ian name  was  John.  “Oh,  Sally  Brown!  oh,  Sally 
Brown!  how  could  you  serve  me  so?  I’ve  met 
with  many  a breeze  before,  but  never  such  a blow!” 

Then  reading  on  his  ’bacco  box,  he  heaved  a 
heavy  sigh;  and  then  began  to  eye  his  pipe,  and 
then  to  pipe  his  eye.  And  then  he  tried  to  sing 
“All’s  well;”  but  could  not,  though  he  tried;  his 
head  was  turned — and  so  he  chewed  his  pigtail  till 
he  died.  His  death,  which  happened  in  his  berth, 
at  forty  odd  befell;  they  went  and  told  the  sexton, 
and  the  sexton  tolled  the  bell. — Thomas  Hood, 


Going  on  an  ^xgui^sion. 

They  had  been  preparing  for  the  excursion  for 
about  two  weeks.  The  day  at  last  dawned,  and  as 
the  boat  was  to  start  early,  the  young  wife  deter- 
mined to  be  on  hand.  The  clock  struck  8,  and 
still  she  was  in  the  kitchen,  her  hair  down  her  back, 
packing  edibles  in  her  basket. 

“Hurry  up!”  said  John,  her  young  husband. 

“I’ll  be  ready  presently,”  and  away  she  darted  to 
blacken  her  shoes  and  put  on  a clean  collar.  Then 
she  stuck  her  head  out  of  the  back  window,  to  ask 
her  next  door  neighbor  to  lend  her  a breastpin. 

“Hurry  up,  John,”  said  she.  “You  bring  the 
basket.  N ow  I’m  all  ready  and  am  going  down  to  the 


170 


THE  WORTHS 


boat.  And,  say,  John,  don’t  forget  a box  of  sar- 
dines you’ll  find  in  the  closet,  and  bring  the  pickles 
and  tongue,  and  be  sure  and  bring  a big  knife.  Do 
you  hear  me,  John?” 

John  reeled  into  the  kitchen  and  began  his  work. 

^ He  was  interrupted  by  his  wife’s  voice  from  below, 
yelling : 

‘‘John,  there’s  a can  of  strawberries  in  the  ice- 
box; don’t  forget  them.  Now  hurry — we’ll  be 
fearful  late ; and  say,  bring  one  or  two  more  hand- 
kerchiefs and  a sun-umbrella — or,  I dont  know,  it 
looks  like  rain,  bring  my  water-proof.  0 ! you  old 
poke!  you’re  going  to  stay  there  all  day.  Now  run 
back  and  close  those  back  shutters,  and  put  the  cat 
in  the  kitchen,  and  leave  a pan  of  milk  for  her;  and 
say,  just  stop  around  to  the  butcher’s  and  tell  him 
we  won’t  need  any  meat  to-day;  and  leave  the  key 
of  the  cellar  under  the  parlor-door  mat.  Now 
hurry,  John.  I’m  off.  And  don’t  forget  anything 
or  rU  go  wild!” 

He  didn’t  forget  anything;  but  when  he  reached 
the  wharf  he  found  the  boat  had  been  gone  two 
hours. 


©WAIN  ON  Blub  (Jays. 

Mr.  Mark  Twain’s  two  volumes  of  European 
travel,  entitled  “The  Tramp  Abroad,”  contain  his 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


171 


estimate  of  the  blue  jay.  With  his  well-know 
proclivity  for  modesty  the  author  presents  this 
estimate  in  the  words  of  a certain  “Jim”  Baker,  a 
California  miner : “There’s  more  to  a blue  jay  than 
any  other  creature.  He  has  got  more  moods  and 
more  different  kinds  of  feeling  than  any  other 
creature;  and  mind  you,  whatever  a blue  jay  feels 
he  can  put  into  language.  And  no  mere  common- 
place language,  either,  but  rattling,  out-and-out 
book  talk — and  bristling  with  metaphor,  too — just 
bristling ! And  as  for  command  of  language — why, 
you  never  see  a blue  jay  get  stuck  for  a word.  No 
man  ever  did.  They  just  boil  out  of  him.  And 
another  thing,  I’ve  noticed  a good  deal,  and  there’s 
no  bird,  or  cow,  or  anything  that  uses  as  good 
grammar  as  a blue  jay.  You  may  say  a cat  uses 
good  grammar.  Well,  a cat  does — but  you  let  a 
cat  get  excited  once ; you  let  a cat  get  to  pulling 
fur  with  another  cat  on  a shed,  nights,  and  you’ll 
hear  grammar  that  will  give  you  the  lockjaw. 
Ignorant  people  think  it’s  the  noise  which  fighting 
cats  make  that  is  so  aggravating,  hut  it  ain’t  so,  it’s 
the  sickening  grammar  they  use.  Now,  I’ve  never 
heard  a jay  use  bad  grammar  but  very  seldom;  and 
when  they  do,  they  are  as  ashamed  as  a human; 
they  shut  right  down  and  leave. 

“You  may  call  a jay  a bird.  Well,  so  he  is,  in  a 
m.easure — because  he’s  got  feathers  on  him,  and 


172 


THE  WORLD'^S 


don’t  belong  to  no  church,  perhaps;  but  otherwise 
he  is  just  as  much  a human  as  you  be.  And  I’ll 
tell  you  for  why.  A jay’s  gifts  and  instincts  and 
feelings  and  interests  cover  the  whole  ground.  A 
jay  hasn’t  got  any  more  principle  than  a Congress- 
man. A jay  will  he,  a jay  will  steal,  a jay  will  de- 
ceive, a jay  will  betray;  and  four  times  out  of  five 
a jay  will  go  back  on  his  solemnist  promise.  The 
sacredness  of  an  obligation  is  a thing  which  you 
can’t  cram  into  no  blue  jay’s  head.  Now^,  on  top 
of  all  this,  there’s  another  thing;  a jay  can  outswear 
any  gentleman  in  the  mines.  You  think  a cat  can 
swear.  Well,  a cat  can;  but  you  give  a blue  jay  a 
subject  that  calls  for  his  reserve  powers,  and  where 
is  your  cat?  Don’t  talk  to  me — I know  too  much 
about  this  thing.  And  there’s  yet  another  thing; 
in  the  one  little  particular  of  scolding — just  good, 
clean  out-and-out  scolding — a blue  jay  can  overlay 
anything,  human  or  divine.  Yes,  sir,  a jay  is  every- 
thing that  a man  is.  A jay  can  cry,  a jay  can 
laugh,  a jay  can  feel  shame,  a jay  can  reason  and 
plan  and  discuss,  a jay  likes  gossip  and  scandal,  a 
jay  has  got  a sense  of  humor,  a jay  knows  when  he 
is  an  ass  just  as  well  as  you  do — maybe  better.  If 
a jay  ain’t  human,  he’d  better  take  in  his  sign, 
that’s  all.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


173 


BAtSHEltOI^S  AND 

JOSH  BILLINGS. 

SoAje  oid  bachelors  git  after  a fiirt,  and  don’t 
travel  as  fast  as  she  doz,  and  then  concludes  awl 
the  female  group  are  hard  to  ketch,  and  good  for 
nothing  when  they  are  ketched. 

A flirt  is  a rough  thing  to  overhaul  unless  the 
right  dog  gets  after  her,  and  then  they  make  the 
very  best  of  wives. 

When  a flirt  really  is  in  love  she  is  as  powerless 
as  a mown  daisy. 

Her  impudence  then  changes  into  modesty,  her 
cunning  into  fears,  her  spurs  into  a halter,  and  her 
pruning-hook  into  a cradle. 

The  best  way  to  ketch  a flirt  is  tew  travel  the 
other  way  from  which  they  are  going,  or  sit  down 
on  the  ground  and  whistle  some  lively  tune  till  the 
flirt  comes  round. 

Old  bachelors  make  the  flirts,  and  then  the  flirts 
get  more  than  even,  by  making  the  old  bachelors. 

A majority  of  flirts  get  married  finally,  for  they 
hev  a great  quantity  of  the  most  dainty  tidbits  of 
woman’s  nature,  and  alwus  have  shrewdness  to 
back  up  their  sweetness. 

Flirts  don’t  deal  in  po’try  and  water  grewel : they 
have  got  to  hev  brains,  or  else  somebody  would 


174 


THE  WORLHS 


trade  them  out  of  their  capital  at  the  first  sweep. 

Disappointed  luv  must  uv  course  be  all  on  one 
side;  this  ain’t  any  more  excuse  fur  being  an  old 
bachelor  than  it  iz  fur  a man  to  quit  all  kinds  of 
manual  labor,  jist  out  uv  spite,  and  jine  a poor- 
house  hekase  he  kant  lift  a tun  at  one  pop. 

An  old  bachelor  will  brag  about  his  freedom  to 
you,  his  relief  from  anxiety,  biz  indipendence. 
This  iz  a dead  beat,  past  resurrection,  for  every- 
body knows  there  ain’t  a more  anxious  dupe  than 
he  iz.  All  his  dreams  are  charcoal  sketches  of 
boarding-school  misses;  he  dresses,  greases  biz 
hair,  paints  hiz  grizzly  mustache,  cultivates  bun- 
yons  and  corns,  to  please  his  captains,  the  wimmen, 
and  only  gets  laffed  at  fur  hiz  pains. 

I tried  being  an  old  bachelor  till  I wuz  about 
twenty  years  old,  and  came  very  near  dieing  a 
dozen  times.  I had  more  sharp  pain  in  one  year 
than  I hev  had  since,  put  it  all  in  a heap.  I was 
in  a lively  fever  all  the  time. 


f)ow  TO  Spell  Isaac. 

Mr.  Isaac  Staples,  of  Stillwater,  Minn.,  is  a lum- 
ber dealer  who  has  had  an  extensive  correspondence. 
His  bookkeeper  has  made  a memorandum  of  the 
fact  every  time  the  given  name  of  Mr.  Staples  has 
been  misspelled  in  a letter  addressed  to  him.  The 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


175 


correspondence  has  already  yielded  the  following 
fifty  erroneous  spellings,  which  will  be  read  with 
delight  by  the  spelling  reformers : 


Isiac, 

Isic, 

Iceic, 

Isick, 

Icaac, 

lisac, 

Isiaac, 

Isaas, 

Issacc, 

Icaace, 

Icaack, 

Isaacce, 

Isica, 

Isaace, 

I Sick, 

Iseac, 

Icaas, 

laac. 

Iseke, 

Isich, 

Isac, 

Icks, 

lassac. 

Issick, 

Jsaac, 

Isaag, 

laasic. 

Izk, 

Isaak, 

Issac, 

Izic, 

Aisec, 

I Sic, 

lisace, 

Isace, 

Isiace, 

Isaar, 

Issach, 

Isic, 

Isoac, 

Icac, 

laasac. 

Isaack, 

Isak, 

Isice, 

Isach, 

Isaach 

Isac, 

Isaack, 

Isaic. 

BBATING  a (©ONDUGJPOI^. 

A Michigan  Central  passenger  going  West  from 
Detroit  by  rail,  the  other  day,  had  a pass  to 
Chicago.  When  the  conductor  took  it  up  he  asked 
several  questions  to  satisfy  himself  that  the  pass 
had  not  been  transferred,  and  the  holder  of  the 
pasteboard  didn’t  take  it  as  good  naturedly  as  some 
men  would.  He  didn’t  have  much  to  say,  but  he 
was  determined  on  revenge.  As  soon  as  the  con- 
ductor left  the  car,  the  man  changed  seats,  removed 
his  linen  duster,  took  off  his  hat,  and  looked  like  a 
different  person  altogether.  After  the  train  left 
the  next  station  the  conductor  came  along  with  an 


It6  THE  WOELD^S 

eye  out  for  new  passengers,  and  presently  reached 
out  for  the  holder  of  the  pass. 

“I  haven’t  got  any  ticket,”  was  the  surly  answer. 

“Then  you  must  pay  you  fare.” 

“I  won’t  do  it.” 

“See  here,”  said  the  conductor,  as  he  began  to 
wake  up,  “you  must  either  pay  your  fare  or  produce 
a ticket.  If  not.  I’ll  drop  you  on  the  road.” 

“Drop  and  be  hanged!” 

The  train  was  not  stopped,  but  after  a run  of  ten 
minutes  it  reached  a station,  and  arrangements 
were  made  for  bouncing  the  man.  When  all  was 
complete  he  showed  his  pass. 

“Why  didn’t  you  tell  me  you  had  a pass?”  roared 
the  conductor. 

“Why  didn’t  you  ask  me?”  shouted  the  traveler, 

“Well,  I don’t  like  such  fooling.” 

“Nor  I,  either.” 

The  train  went  on,  and  the  man  put  on  his 
duster,  traded  hats  with,  a passenger,  and  again 
looked  like  some  one  else.  He  changed  his  seat  to 
the  front  end  of  the  car,  and  was  seemingly  sound 
asleep  when  the  conductor  again  had  occasion  to 
pass  through.  He  took  two  fares,  and  then  held 
out  his  hand  to  the  traveler.  There  was  no  re- 
sponse. He  shook  the  sleeper  gently,  but  the  latter 
slept  on.  Then  he  shook  him  good  and  stout,  and 
called  “ticket”  in  his  ear. 


wrr  AND  WITS.  177 

“How  dare  yon  shake  me  around  in  this  manner?” 
shouted  the  man  as  he  awoke  and  stood  up. 

“Ticket,  please.” 

“But  I don’t  please ! How  dare  you  come  to  me 
every  time  the  train  leaves  a station?” 

The  conductor  looked  down  the  aisle,  thought  he 
saw  the  man  with  the  pass  in  his  old  seat,  and  said 
to  the  other : 

“Come,  sir,  don’t  bother  me.  I want  your 
ticket.” 

“You  can’t  have  it!” 

“Then  I’ll  put  you  oh!” 

He  reached  for  the  bell-rope,  but  seeing  a gen- 
eral grin  all  around  the  car  he  stopped  and  looked 
more  closely  at  the  man,  and  recognized  him  as  the 
one  with  the  pass.  He  went  out  without  a word, 
and  when  he  returned,  half  an  hour  later,  he  ex- 
pected another  trap.  He  looked  carefully  over  the 
car,  and  was  going  slowly  along  in  search  of  new 
faces,  when  a man  with  his  coat  off,  and  under  the 
influence  of  liquor  called  out : 

“Shay,  Captain,  I hain’t  got  any  ticket!” 

“Ah,  you  can’t  beat  me  again — knew  you  as  soon 
as  I entered  the  car?”  chuckled  the  ofhcial,  and  he 
walked  on  with  a broad  grin  on  his  face. 

It  was  not  until  he  saw  the  shirt- sleeved  man 
get  off  at  the  next  station  that  he  knew  he  had 


12 


178 


THE  WORTHS 


been  mistaken  again,  and  bad  let  him  travel  for 
nothing,  while  the  man  with  the  pass  was  in  the 
smoking-car. — Detroit  Free  Press. 


©WAIN’S  UlSIT  TO  r^IAGAI^A. 

HIS  STAETLING  DISCLOSUEES HE  IS  PITCHED  OVEE  THE 

CATAEACT  BY  THE  INDIANS. 

Niagara  Falls  is  one  of  the  finest  structures  in 
the  known  world.  I have  beenAdsiting  this  favorite 
watering-place  recently,  for  the  first  time,  and  was 
well  pleased.  A gentleman  who  was  with  me  said 
it  was  customary  to  be  disappointed  in  the  Falls, 
but  that  subsequent  visits  were  sure  to  set  that  all 
right.  He  said  that  the  first  time  he  went,  the 
hack  fares  were  so  much  higher  than  the  falls,  that 
the  falls  appeared  insignificant.  But  that  is  all 
regulated  now.  The  hackmen  have  been  tamed, 
numbered,  placarded  and  blackguarded,  and  brought 
into  subjection  of  the  law,  and  dosed  with  moral 
principle  till  they  are  as  meek  as  missionaries. 
There  are  no  more  outrages  and  extortions.  That 
sort  of  thing  cured  itself.  It  made  the  falls  un- 
popular by  getting  into  the  newspapers ; and,  when- 
ever a public  evil  achieves  that  sort  of  success  for 
itself,  its  days  are  numbered.  It  becaine  apparent 
that  either  the  falls  had  to  be  discontinued,  or  the 
hackman  had  to  subside.  They  could  not  dam  the 


^YIT  AND  WIT 8, 


179 


falls,  and  so  they  did  the  hackman.  One  can  he 
comfortable  and  happy  there  now. 

I drank  np  most  of  the  American  Fall  before  I 
learned  that  the  waters  were  not  considered  medi- 
cal. Why  are  people  left  in  ignorance  that  way? 
I might  have  gone  on  and  ruined  a fine  property, 
merely  for  the  want  of  a little  trifling  information. 
And  yet  the  sources  of  information  at  Niagara 
Falls  are  not  meagre.  You  are  sometimes  in  doubt 
there  about  what  you  ought  to  do,  but  you  are 
seldom  in  doubt  about  what  you  must  not  do.  No, 
the  signs  keep  you  posted.  If  an  infant  can  read, 
that  infant  is  measurably  safe  at  Niagara  Falls.  In 
your  room  at  the  hotel  you  will  find  your  course 
marked  out  for  you  in  the  most  convenient  way,  by 
means  of  placards  on  the  wall  like  these : 

“Pull  the  bell-rope  gently,  but  don’t  jerk.” 

“Bolt  your  door.” 

“Don’t  scrape  matches  on  the  wall.” 

“Turn  off  your  gas  when  you  retire.” 

“Tie  up  your  dog.” 

“If  you  place  your  boots  outside  the  door  they 
will  be  blackened,  but  the  house  wdll  not  be  re- 
sponsible for  their  return.”  (This  is  a confusing 
and  tanglesome  proposition,  because  it  moves  you 
to  deliberate  long  and  painfully  as  to  whether  it 
will  really  be  any  object  to  you  to  have  your  boots 
blackened  unless  they  are  returned.) 


180 


THE  WORLDS  S 


“Give  your  key  to  the  omnibus  driver,  if  you  for- 
get and  carry  it  off  with  you.” 

Outside  the  hotel  wherever  you  w^ander  you  are 
intelligently  assisted  by  the  signs.  You  cannot 
come  to  grief  as  long  as  you  are  in  your  right 
mind.  But  the  difficulty  is  to  stay  in  your  right 
mind  with  so  much  instruction  to  keep  track  of. 
For  instance : 

“Keep  off  the  grass.” 

“Don’t  climb  the  trees.” 

“Hands  off  the  vegetables.” 

“Do  not  hitch  your  horse  to  the  shrubbery.” 

“Visit  the  Cave  of  the  Winds.” 

“Have  your  portrait  taken  in  your  carriage.”  - 

“Forty  per  cent,  in  gold  levied  on  all  peanuts  or 
other  Indian  curiosities  purchased  in  Canada.” 

“Photographs  of  the  falls  taken  here.” 

“Visitors  will  please  notify  the  superintendent  of 
any  neglect  on  the  part  of  employes  to  charge  for 
commodities  or  services.” 

“Don’t  throw  stones  down;  they  may  hit  people 
below.” 

“The  proprietors  will  not  be  responsible  for 
parties  who  jump  over  the  falls.” 

To  tell  the  plain  truth,  the  multitude  of  signs 
annoyed  me.  It  was  because  I noticed  at  last  that 
they  always  happened  to  prohibit  exactly  the  very 
thing  I was  just  wanting  to  do.  I desired  to  roll 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


181 


on  the  grass;  the  sign  prohibited  it.  I wished  to 
climb  a tree ; the  sign  prohibited  it.  I longed  to 
smoke;  the  sign  prohibited  it.  And  I was  just  in 
the  act  of  throwing  a stone  over  to  astonish  and 
pulverize  such  parties  as  might  be  picnicking  below, 
when  a sign  I have  just  mentioned  forbade  that. 
Even  that  satisfaction  was  denied  me  (and  I a 
friendless  orphan).  There  was  no  resource  now 
hut  to  seek  consolation  in  the  flowing  bowl.  I drew 
my  flask  from  my  pocket,  but  it  was  all  in  vain. 
A sign  confronted  me,  which  said. 

“No  drinking  allowed  on  these  premises.” 

On  that  spot  I might  have  perished  of  thirst  but 
for  the  saving  words  of  an  honored  maxim  that 
flitted  through  my  memory  at  that  critical  moment, 
“All  signs  fail  in  dry  time.”  Common  law  takes 
precedence  of  the  statutes.  I was  saved. 

The  noble  Red  Man  has  always  been  a darling  of 
mine.  I love  to  read  about  him  in  tales,  legends 
and  romances ; I love  to  read  of  his  inspired  sa- 
gacity ; and  his  love  of  the  wild,  free  life  of  moun- 
tain and  forest;  and  his  grand  truthfulness;  his 
hatred  of  treachery,  and  his  general  nobility  of 
character ; and  his  stately  metaphorical  manner  of 
speech;  and  his  chivalrous  love  for  his  dusky 
maiden ; and  the  picturesque  pomp  of  his  dress  and 
accoutrement — especially  the  picturesque  pomp  of 
his  dress  and  accoutrement.  When  I found  the 


182 


TEE  WOBLES 


shops  at  Niagara  Falls  full  of  dainty  Indian  bead- 
work  and  stunning  moccasins,  and  equally  stunning 
toy  figures  representing  human  beings  who  carried 
their  weapons  in  holes  bored  through  their  arms  and 
bodies,  and  had  feet  shaped  like  a j)ie,  I was  filled 
with  emotion.  I knew  that  now,  at  last,  I was  going 
to  come  face  to  face  with  the  noble  red  man.  A lazy 
clerk  in  the  shop  told  me,  indeed,  that  all  her  grand 
array  was  made  by  the  Indians,  and  that  they  were 
plenty  about  the  Falls,  and  that  they  were  friendly, 
and  it  Avould  not  be  dangerous  to  speak  to  them. 
And  sure  enough,  as  I approached  the  bridge  lead- 
ing over  to  Luna  Island  I came  upon  a noble  old 
son  of  the  forest  sitting  under  a tree,  diligently  at 
work  upon  a bead  reticule.  He  wore  a slouch  hat 
and  brogans  and  had  a short  black  pipe  in  his  mouth. 
Thus  does  the  baleful  contact  with  our  effeminate 
civilization  dilute  the  picturesque  pomp  which  is  so 
natural  to  the  Indian  when  far  removed  from  us  in 
his  native  haunts.  I addressed  the  relic  as  follow’s : 

‘Ts  the  Wawho- Wang- Wang  of  the  Whack-a- 
Whack  happy?  Does  the  great  Speckled  Thunder 
sigh  for  the  war-path,  or  is  his  heart  contented  with 
dreaming  of  his  dusky  maiden,  the  Pride  of  the 
Forest?  Does  the  mighty  sachem  yearn  to  drink 
the  blood  of  his  enemies,  or  is  he  satisfied  to  make 
bead  reticules  for  the  papooses  of  the  pale-face? 
Speak,  sublime  relic  of  bygone  grandeur — venerable 


U.V0;: 


OF  ; 

■<(  1^  cf  itli"'  - 


^ IT  AND  WITS. 


183 


ruin,  speak!” 

The  relic  said : 

^‘An’  is  it  meself,  Dinnis  Hooligan,  that  ye’d  be 
takin’for  a bloody  Injin,  ye  drawlin’,  lantern-jawed, 
spider-legged  riiffin?  By  the  piper  that  played 
before  Moses,  I’ll  eat  ye!” 

I went  away. 

I made  one  more  attempt  to  fraternize  with 
them,  and  only  one.  I came  upon  a camp  of  them 
gathered  in  the  shade  of  a great  tree,  making  wam- 
pum and  moccasins,  and  addressed  them  in  the 
language  of  friendship : 

“Noble  Bed  Men,  Braves,  Grand  Sachems,  War 
Chiefs,  Squaws,  and  High-you-Muck-a-Mucks,  the 
Paleface  from  the  setting  sun  ^reelA*  you ! You, 
Beneficent  Polecat — you,  Bevourer  of  Mountains 
— you,  Eoaring  Thundergust — ^you.  Bully  Boy  with 
a Glass  Eye — the  Paleface  from  beyond  the  great 
waters  greets  you  all!  War  and  pestilence  have 
thinned  your  ranks  and  destroyed  your  once-proud 
nation.  Poker,  and  seven-up,  and  a vain  modern 
expense  for  soap,  unknown  to  your  glorious  ances- 
tors, have  depleted  your  purses.  Appropriating,  in 
your  simplicity,  the  property  of  others,  has  gotten 
you  into  trouble.  Misrepresenting  facts,  in  your 
sinless  innocence,  has  damaged  your  reputation 
with  the  soulless.  Trading  for  forty-rod  whiskey, 
to  enable  you  to  get  drunk  and  happy  and  toma- 


184 


THE  ^VORLD^S 


hawk  your  families,  has  played  the  everlasting 
mischief  with  the  picturesque  ^^omp  of  your  dress, 
and  here  you  are,  in  the  broad  light  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  gotten  up  like  the  rag-tag-and-bob- 
tail  of  the  purlieus  of  New  York ! For  shame ! Ke- 
member  your  ancestors!  Recall  their  mighty 
deeds!  Remember  Uncas! — and  Red  Jacket! — 
and  'Hole-in-the-Day ! — and  Horace  Greeley! 
Emulate  their  achievements!  Unfurl  yourselves 
under  my  banner,  noble  savages,  illustrious  gutter- 
snipes— ” 

‘‘Down  Avid  him!” 

“Scoop  the  blagard!” 

“Hang  him !” 

“Dhrownd  him!” 

It  Avas  the  quickest  operation  that  ever  was.  I 
simply  saAv  a sudden  Hash  in  the  air  of  clubs,  brick- 
bats, fists,  bead  baskets  and  moccasins — single  flasli 
and  they  all  appeared  to  hit  me  at  once,  and  no 
tAvo  of  them  in  the  same  place.  In  the  next  instant 
the’ entire  tribe  Avas  upon  me.  They  tore  a!  I the 
clothes  oh  me,  they  broke  my  arms  and  legs,  they 
gaA^e  me  a thump  that  dented  the  top  of  my  head 
till  it  AA^ould  hold  coffee  like  a saucer;  and  to  crown 
their  disgraceful  proceedings  and  add  insult  to 
injury  they  threw  me  over  the  Horseshoe  Fall,  and 
I got  Avet. 

About  ninety-nine  or  a hundred  feet  from  the 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


185 


top,  the  remains  of  my  vest  caught  on  a projecting 
rock,  and  I was  almost  drowned  before  I could  get 
loose.  I finally  fell,  and  brought  up  in  a world  of 
white  foam  at  the  foot  of  the  fall,  whose  ceiled  and 
bubbly  masses  towered  up  several  inches  above  my 
head.  Of  course ^ got  into  the  eddy.  I sailed 
round  and  round  in  it  forty-four  times — chasing  a 
chip,  and  gaining  on  it — each  round  trip  a half  a 
mile — reaching  for  the  same  bush  on  the  bank 
forty-four  times,  and  just  exactly  missed  it  every 
time  by  a hair’s  breadth.  At  last  a man  walked 
down  and  sat  down  close  to  that  bush,  and  put  a 
pipe  in  his  mouth  and  lit  a match,  and  followed  me 
with  one  eye  and  kept  the  other  on  the  match 
while  he  sheltered  it  in  his  hands  from  the  wind. 
Presently  a puff  of  wind  blew  it  out.  The  next 
time  I swept  round  him  he  said : 

“Got  a match?” 

“Yes — in  my  other  vest.  Help  me  out,  please.” 

"Not  for  Joe.” 

When  I came  around  again,  I said: 

"Excuse  the  seemingly  impertinent  curiosity  of 
a drowning  man,  but  will  you  please  explain  this 
singular  conduct  of  yours?” 

“With  pleasure.  I am  the  Coroner.  Don’t 
hurry  on  my  account.  I can  wait  for  you.  But  I 
wish  I had  a match.” 

I said," Take  my  place  and  I’ll  go  and  get  you  one.  ” 


186 


THE  WORTHS 


He  declined.  This  lack  of  confidence  on  his  part  . 
created  a coolness  between  us,  and  from  that  time 
forward  I avoided  him.  It  was  my  idea,  in  case 
anything  happened  to  me,  to  so  time  the  occurence 
as  to  throw  my  custom  into  the  hands  of  the  oppo- 
sition Coroner  over  on  the  American  side.  At  last 
a policeman  came  along  and  arrested  me  for  dis- 
turbing the  peace  by  yelhng  at  people  on  shore  for 
help.  The  Judge  finecJ  me,  ‘but  I had  the  advan- 
tage of  him.  My. money  was  withlmy  pantaloons, 
and  my  pantaloons  were  with  the  Indians. 

Thus  I escaped.  I am  now  lying  in  a critical 
condition.  At  least,  I am  lying,  anyway — critical 
or  not  critical. 

I am  hurt  all  over,  but  cannot  tell  the  full  extent 
yet,  because  the  doctor  is  not  done  taking  the 
inventory.  He  will  make  out  my  manifest  this 
evening.  However,  thus  far,  he  thinks  only  six  of 
my  wounds  are  fatal.  I don’t  mind  the  others. 

I shall  not  be  able  to  finish  my  remarks  about 
Niagara  FaUs  until  I get  better. 


Fi^bngh  poi^  ©blbi^y. 

Bride  (looking  over  the  bill  of  fare)— John,  what’s 
“Patty  de  free  grass?” 

Groom — Sh!  Don’t  talk  so  loud,  or  people’ll 
think  we’re  ignorant.  It  must  be  French  for  celery. 


Cf 

. . . , f IIV 


“WHERE  DID  I LEAVE  MY  SHIRT?" 


P.  187. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


187 


SP00PENDYI(E’S  (iOLLfAI^-BUTiHON. 

STANLEY  HUNTLEY. 

“M;f  dear,’’  said  Mr.  Spoopendyke,  feeling  up  the 
chimney,  “have  you  seen  my  gold  collar  button?” 

“I  saw  it  the  day  I bought  it,”  answered  Mrs. 
Spoopendyke,  cheerily,  “and  I thought  it  very 
pretty.  Why  do  you  ask?” 

“ ’Cause  I’ve  lost  the  measly  thing,”  responded 
Mr.  Spoopendyke,  running  the  broom  handle  iip 
into  the  cornice,  and  shaking  it  as  if  it  were  a car- 
pet. 

“You  don’t  suppose  it  is  up  there,  do  you?”  asked 
Mrs.  Spoopendyke.  “Where  did  you  leave  it?” 

“Left  it  in  my  shirt.  Where  do  you  suppose  I 
left  it? — in  the  hash?”  and  Mr.  Spoopendyke  tossed 
over  things  in  his  wife’s  writing  desk,  and  looked 
out  of  the  window  after  it. 

“Where  did  you  leave  your  shirt?”  asked  Mrs. 
Spoopendyke. 

“Where  did  I leave  my  shirt?  Where  do  you 
suppose  I left  it?  Where  does  a man  generally 
leave  his  shirt,  Mrs.  Spoopendyke?  Think  I left 
it  in  the  ferry  boat?  Got  an  idea  I left  it  at  the 
prayer  meeting,  haven’t  you?  Well,  I didn’t.  I 
left  it  off,  Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  that’s  where  I left  it. 
I left  it  off.  Hear  me?”  And  Mr.  Spoopendyke 


188 


THE  WORTHS 


pulled  the  winter  clothing  out  of  the  cedar  chest 
that  hadn’t  been  unlocked  for  a month. 

“Where  is  the  shirt  now?”  persisted  Mrs.  Spoop- 
endyke. 

“Where  do  you  suppose  it  is?  Where  do  you 
imagine  it  is?  I’ll  tell  you  where  it  is,  Mrs.  Spoop- 
endyke,  it's  gone  to  Bridgeport  as  a witness  in  a 
land  su’t.  hlea!  Ask  a man  where  his  shirt  is! 
A^ou  know  I haven't  been  out  of  the  room  since  I 
took  it  oh;  ’ and  Mr.  Spoopendyke  sailed  down 
stairs  and  raked  the  fire  out  of  the  kitchen  range, 
but  did  not  find  the  button. 

“Maybe  ^mu  lost  it  on  the  way  home,”  suggested 
Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  as  her  husband'  came  up,  hot 
and  angry,  and  began  to  pull  a stuffed  canary  to 
pieces  to  see  if  the  button  had  got  inside. 

“Oh,  yes,  very  likely!  I stood  up  against  a tree 
and  lost  it.  Then  I hid  it  behind  a fence  so  I 
wouldn’t  see  it.  That’s  the  way  it  was.  If  I only 
had  your  head,  Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  I’d  turn  it  loose 
as  a razor  strop.  I don’t  know  anything  sharper 
than  you  are;”  and  Mr.  Spoopendyke  clutched  a 
handful  of  dust  off  the  top  of  the  wardrobe. 

“It  must  have  fallen  out,”  mused  Mrs.  Spoopen- 
dyke. 

“Oh!  it  must  eh?  It  must  have  fallen  out? 
Well,  I declare,  I never  thought  of  that.  My  im- 
pression was  that  it  took  a buggy  and  drove  out,  or 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


189 


a ballon  and  hoisted  out;”  and  Mr.  Spoopendyke 
crawled  behind  the  bureau  and  commenced  tearing 
up  the  carpet. 

“And  if  it  fell  out  it  must  be  somewhere  near 
where  he  left  his  shirt.  Now,  he  always  throws 
his  shirt  on  the  lounge,  and  the  button  is  under 
that.” 

A moment’s  search  soon  established  the  infallibil- 
ity of  Mrs.  Spoopendyke ’s  logic. 

“Oh,  yes!  Found  it,  didn’t  you?”  panted  Mr. 
Spoopendyke,  as  he  bumped  his  head  against  the 
bureau  and  finally  climbed  to  a perpendicular. 
“Perhaps  you’ll  fix  my  shirts  so  it  won’t  fall  out 
any  more,  and  maybe  you’ll  have  sense  enough  to 
mend  that  lounge,  now  that  it  has  caused  so  much 
trouble.  If  you  only  tended  to  the  house  as  I do 
to  my  business,  there ’d  never  be  any  difficulty  about 
losing  a collar  button.” 

“It  wasn’t  my  fault — ” began  Mrs.  Spoopendyke. 

“Wasn’t,,  eh?  Have  you  found  that  coal  bill 
you’ve  been  looking  for  since  last  March?” 

“Yes.” 

“Have,  eh?  Now  where  did  you  put  it?  Where 
did  you  find  it?” 

“In  your  overcoat  pocket.” — Brooklyn  Bagle. 


Noah  made  the  ark  light  and  could  not  have 
been  in  utter  darkness  during  the  flood. 


190 


THE  WORLDS  8 


F)ow  F^b’d  Do  Iip. 

Several  men  Avere  gathered  at  the  door  of  a black- 
smith shop  on  Cass  Avenue,  the  other  morning, 
when  a school-hoy,  not  OA^er  nine  years  of  age,  came 
along  Avith  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  one  of  the  group 
asked : 

“What’s  the  matter,  boy, — fall  doAvn?” 

“N-no,  hut  I’A^e  got  a hard  ’rithmetic  lesson,  and 
and  I expect  to  get  1-licked!”  Avas  the  ansAver. 

“Let  me  see ; I used  to  be  a king-bee  on  fractions.  ” 

The  man  took  the  hook,  turned  to  the  page,  and 
read : 

“Rule  1 — Find  the  least  common  multiple  of  the 
denominators  of  the  fractions  tor  the  least  common 
denominator.  Divide  this  least  common  denomi- 
nator by  each  denominator,  and  multiply  both 
terms  of  the  fractions  by  the  quotient  obtained  by 
each  denominator.” 

He  read  the  rule  aloud,  and  asked  if  any  one 
could  understand  it.  All  shook  their  heads  and  he 
then  continued : 

“Well,  now,  I think  I should  go  to  work  and  dis- 
coA^er  the  least  uncommon  agitator.  I would  then 
eAmlve  a parallel  according  to  the  intrinsic  deviator, 
and  punctuate  the  thermometer.” 

“So  Avould  I!”  answered  eA^ery  man  in  chorus, 
and  one  of  them  added:  “I’ve  Avorked  ’em  out  that 
way  a thousand  times!” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


191 


Not  one  of  the  men,  all  of  whom  were  in  busi- 
ness, and  had  made  money,  could  even  understand 
the  working  of  the  rule,  much  less  work  examples 
by  it,  and  yet  it  was  expected  that  a nine-year-old 
hoy  should  go  to  the  blackboard  and  do  every  sum 
off-hand. — Detroit  Free  Press. 


^osH  Billings’  Philosophy. 

GLASS  BEADS. 

Stretch  a man  out  on  a bed  ov  sikness,  and  hiz 
pride,  infidelity,  and  government  coupons  look  like 
a kruel  mockery  to  him. 

Thare  are  people  who  kan  liv,  and  keep  fatt  on 
hate.  I would  rather  be  a snaik. 

I hear  ov  streams  all  over  the  kuntry  whare  2 
pound  trout  are  plenty,  hut  I hav  allwuss  managed 
to  get  to  them  about  10  days  to  late. 

Sassy  children  git  their  edukashum  at  home,  and 
when  the  dog  meets  yu  with  a wagging  tale  at  the 
threshold,  yu  may  be  sure  ov  a kindly  greeting  at 
the  fireside. 

The  people  that  I admire  the  least  are  thoze  who 
admire  themselfs  the  most — thare  is  no  accounting 
for  tastes. 

Thare  is  now  and  then  a man  who  kan  make  a 
cirkumstanse,  but  as  a general  thing,  cirkumstanses 
make  men. 


192 


THE  WOELD'^S 

The  lov  of  applauze  haz  a valuable  germ  in  it, 
but  too  the  yung  it  iz  full  ov  treachery. 

I luv  men  and  their  ways,  but  the  happiest  hours 
T hav  ever  spent,  hav  been  alone  in  the  wilderness. 

Genius  is  a diffikult  thing  to  hide.  I hav  even 
seen  it  revealed  in  blowing  the  noze,  or  handling  a 
tooth  pik. 

I thank  God  for  one  thing,  that  helth  and  poverty 
are  so  often  found  together. 

Yung  man,  all  that  yu  kno,  yu  hav  had  to  lern, 
therefore  don’t  never  laff  at  the  ignorense  ov  others. 

It  iz  a pleasant  thing  to  kno  that  cunning  men, 
sooner  or  later,  git  kaught  in  the  traps  they  set  for 
others. 

The  man  who  iz  satisfied  with  the  simple  neces- 
itys  ov  life,  may  think  he  iz  happy,  but  he  don’t 
amount  to  mutch  enny  how. 

Dangers  suspekted  are  allwuss  overrated ; a hole 
in  the  ground  iz  often  more  dreaded  than  enny- 
thing  that  kan  possibly  cum  out  ov  it. 

It  iz  sed  that  adversity  iz  the  best  for  us,  but  if  I 
kan  hav  prosperity,  I will  try  to  git  along  without 
enny  adversity. 

Man  iz  the  only  animal  I kan  think  ov  who  kant 
swim  without  learning  how;,i^fakt,  man  haz  to 
^ learn  all  he  knows,  even  how  to  e®. 


Wit  and  wits.  m 

Spoopbndyi^b’s  Rbw  Bathing  Suit. 


STANLEY  HUNTLEY. 

“My  dear,”  observed  Mr.  Spoopendyke,  looking 
up  from  his  paper,  “I  think  I would  be  greatly 
benefited  this  summer  by  sea  baths.  Bathing  in 
the  surf  is  an  excellent  tonic,  and  if  you  will  make 
me  up  a suit  and  one  for  yourself,  if  you  like,  we’ll 
go  down  often  and  take  a dip  in  the  waves.” 

“The  very  thing,”  smiled  Mrs.  Spoopendyke; 
“you  certainly  need  something  to  tone  you  up,  and 
there’s  nothing  like  salt  water.  I think  I’ll  make 
mine  of  blue  flannel,  and,  let  me  see,  yours  ought 
to  be  red,  my  dear.” 

“I  don’t  think  you  caught  the  exact  drift  of  my 
remark,”  responded  Mr.  Spoopendyke.  “I  didn’t 
say  I was  going  into  the  opera  business,  or  that  I 
was  going  to  hire  out  to  my  country  village  as  a 
conflagration.  My  plan  was  to  go  in  swimming, 
Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  to  go  in  swimming,  and  not  to 
grow  up  with  the  country  as  a cremation  furnace. 
You  can  make  yours  of  blue  if  you  will,  but  you 
don’t  make  mine  of  red,  that’s  all.” 

'‘There’s  a pretty  shade  of  yellow  flannel — ” 

“Most  undubitably,  Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  but  if  you 
think  I am  going  to  masquerade  around  Manhattan 
beach  in  the  capacity  of  a ham,  you  haven’t  yet 

13 


194 


THE  VTORLHS 


seized  my  idea.  I don't  apprehend  that  I shall 
benefit  by  the  waters  any  more  by  going  around 
looking  like  a Santa  Cruz  rum  barrel.  'Wdiat  I 
want  is  a bathing  suit,  and  if  you  can’t  get  one  up 
without  making  me  look  like  a Fulton  street  car, 
I’ll  go  and  buy  something  to  suit  me.” 

“Would  you  want  it  all  in  one  piece,  or  do  you 
want  pants  and  blouse!” 

“I  want  it  easy  to  get  in  and  out  of.  I’m  not 
particular  about  following  the  fashion.  Make  up 
something  neat,  plain  and  substantial,  but  don’t 
stick  any  fancy  colors  into  it.  I want  it  modest 
and  serviceable.” 

Mrs.  Spoopendyke  made  up  the  suit  under  the 
guidance  of  a lady  friend,  whose  aunt  had  told  her 
bow  it  should  be  constructed.  It  was  in  one  piece, 
and  when  completed  was  rather  a startbng  garment. 

“I’ll  try  it  on  to-night,”  said  Mr.  Spoopendyke 
eyeing  it  askance  when  it  was  handed  him. 

Before  retiring,  Mr.  Spoopendyke  examined  the 
suit,  and  then  began  to  get  into  it. 

“Why  didn’t  you  make  some  legs  to  it?  What 
d’ye  want  to  make  it  all  arms  for?”  he  inquired, 
strugghng  around  to  see  why  it  didn’t  come  up  be- 
hind. 

“You’ve  got  it  on  sideways,”  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Spoopendyke.  “You’ve  got  one  leg  into  the 
sleeve.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


195 


“I’ve  got  it  on  sideways?  There  ain’t  any  top 
to  it.  Don’t  you  know  enough  to  put  the  arms  up 
where  they  belong?  What  d’ye  think  I am,  any- 
how? A star-fish?  Where  does  this  leg  go?” 

“Eight  in  there.  That’s  the  place  for  that  leg.” 

“Then  where’s  the  leg  that  goes  in  this  hole?” 

“Why,  the  other  leg.” 

“The  measly  thing  is  all  legs.  Who’d  you  make 
this  thing  for — me?  What  d’ye  take  me  for — a 
centipede?  Who  is  going  to  get  in  here  with  me? 
I want  somebody  else.  I ain’t  twins.  I can’t  fill 
this  business  up.  What  d’ye  call  it,  any  way,  a 
family  machine?” 

“Those  other  places  ain’t  legs.  They’re  sleeves.” 

“What  are  they  doing  down  there?  Why  ain’t 
they  up  there  where  they  belong?  What  are  they 
there  for — snow  shoes?  S’pose  I’m  going  to  stand 
on  my  head  to  get  my  arms  in  those  holes?” 

“I  don’t  think  you’ve  got  it  on  right,”  suggested 
Mrs.  Spoopendyke.  “It  looks  twisted.” 

“That’s  the  way  you  told  me.  You  said,  ‘Put 
this  leg  here  and  that  one  there,’  and  there  they 
are.  Now  where  does  the  rest  of  me  go?” 

“I  made  it  according  to  the  pattern,”  sighed 
Mrs.  Spoopendyke. 

“Then  it’s  all  right  and  it’s  me  that’s  twisted,” 
sneered  Mr.  Spoopendyke.  “I’ll  have  my  arms  and 
legs  altered.  All  I want  is  to  havemy  legs  jammed 


196 


THE  WORTHS 


in  the  small  of  my  back  and  get  my  arms  stuck  in 
my  hips;  then  it’ll  fit.  What  did  you  take  for  a 
pattern,  a crab?  Where’d  you  find  the  lobster  you 
made  this  from?  S’pose  I’m  going  into  the  water 
on  all  fours?  I told  you  I wanted  a bathing  suit, 
didn’t  I?  Did  I say  anything  about  a chair  cover?” 

“I  think  if  you  take  it  off  and  try  it  on  over 
againit’ll  work,”  reasoned  Mrs.  Spoopendyke. 

‘‘Oh,  of  course.  I’ve  only  got  to  humor  the 
blasted  thing.  That’s  all  it  wants,”  and  Mr. 
Spoopendyke  wrenched  it  off  with  a growl. 

“Now  pull  it  on,”  said  Mrs.  Spoopendyke. 

“Suit  you  now?”  he  howled.  “That  the  way 
you  meant  it  to  go?  What’s  these  things  flopping 
here?” 

“Those  are  the  legs,  I’m  afraid,”  said  Mrs. 
Spoopendyke,  dejectedly. 

“What  are  they  doing  here?  I see;  oh,  I see, 
this  is  supposed  to  represent  me  making  a dive. 
When  I get  this  on  I’m  going  head  first.  Where’s 
the  balance?  Where’s  the  rest?  Give  me  the  suit 
that  represents  me  head  up,”  and  Mr.  Spoopendyke 
danced  around  the  room  in  fury. 

“Just  turn  it  over,  my  dear,”  said  Mrs.  Spoopen- 
dyke, “and  you  are  all  right.” 

“How’m  I going  to  turn  it  over?”  yelled  Mr. 
Spoopendyke.  “S’pose  I’m  going  -to  carry  around 
a steam  boiler  to  turn  me  over  when  I want  the 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


197 


other  end  of  this  thing  up?  S’pose  I’m  going  to 
hire  a man  to  go  around  with  the  griddle  spoon 
and  turn  me  over  like  a flap-jack,  just  to  please 
this  dod  blasted  bathing  suit?  D’ye  think  I work 
on  pivots?” 

“Just  take  it  ofi*  and  put  it  on  the  other  way,” 
urged  Mrs.  Spoopendyke,  who  began  to  see  her  way 
clear. 

Mr.  Spoopendyke  kicked  the  thing  up  to  the 
ceiling,  and  plunged  into  it  once  more.  This  time 
it  came  out  all  right,  and  as  he  buttoned  it  up  and 
surveyed  himself  in  the  glass  the  clouds  passed 
away  and  he  smiled. 

“I  like  it,”  he  remarked;  “the  color  suits  me, 
and  I think  you  have  done  very  well,  my  dear : 
only,”  and  he  frowned  slightly,  “I  wish  you  would 
mark  the  arms  and  legs  so  I can  distinguish  one 
from  the  other,  or  some  day  I will  present  the 
startling  spectacle  of  a respectable  elderly  gentle- 
man hopping  around  the  beach  upside  down. 
That’s  all.” — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

©HE  Dignijuy  op  Oppigb. 

A Detroiter,  who  was  rusticating  in  one  of  the 
wilderness  counties  of  Michigan,  was  one  day  out 
hunting  when  he  came  upon  a hamlet  consisting  of 
a saw-mill,  two  houses  and  a log  barn.  The  sign 
of  “Post  Offlce”  greeted  his  vision  over  a door  in 


198 


THE  WORTHS 


one  of  the  houses,  and  he  investigated.  The  office 
was  an  eight  by  ten  room,  and  the  boxes  for  mail 
matter  numbered  just  four.  A written  sign  on  the 
wall  announced  that  the  mail  arrived  and  departed 
once  a week,  and  the  Postmaster  sat  behind  a pine 
table  reading  the  Postal  Guide  and  chewing  a 
sassafras  root. 

“Any  letter  for  John ?”  asked  the  Detroiter, 

as  he  looked  around. 

The  P.  M.  didn’t  shake  his  head  and  crush  the 
inquirer’s  hopes  all  at  once,  as  some  officials  do, 
but  slowly  arose,  looked  carefully  into  each  one  of 
the  six  empty  boxes,  peered  into  an  old  cigar  box 
on  the  window-sill,  and  then  answered : 

“I  don’t  see  anything  just  now,  but  'it  is  only 
four  days  till  the  next  mail.” 

“Is  this  a money-order  office?”  continued  the 
stranger. 

“Well,  no,  not  exactly,  though  we  handle  con- 
siderable money  here.” 

“Can  I get  a dollar’s  worth  of  threes?”  asked  the 
Detroiter,  after  a pause. 

“Well,  no,  not  exactly,”  replied  the  official,  look- 
ing into  his  wallet.  “I  guess  I can  spare  five  or 
six  now  and  the  rest  next  week.” 

There  was  another  pause  as  the  Postmaster 
vainly  tried  to  make  change  for  a quarter,  and  the 
Detroiter  finally  remarked : 


THE  DIGNITY  OF  OFFICE. 


P.  198. 


u.rm;; 


IffiRflRV 
OF  T"E 

■'ly  i-f  (LU.’O'o 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


199 


“This  isn’t  rated  as  a first-class  post-office,  is  it?” 

“Well,  no,  not  exactly,”  was  the  confidential 
reply.  “Fact  is,  we  don’t  do  a very  rushing  busi- 
ness here,  and  sometimes  I think  it  would  pay  me 
better  to  go  back  to  the  farm.” 

“I  don’t  suppose  you  make  $20  a year  here,  do 
you?” 

“Well,  no,  not  exactly;  but  I don’t  look  at  that 
altogether.  The  position  that  it  gives  Us  in  society 
here  must  be  taken  into  consideration,  you  know!” 

The  population  of  the  hamlet,  including  a tame 
bear  and  a dog,  was  only  thirteen  souls. — Detroit 
Free  Press. 

IJES  iNGOMPF^BHHNSIBLiES.  ' 


A LA  VICTOE  HUGO. 


BOOK  I. 

A man  sat  on  a picket  fence. 

Picket  fences  were  invented  by  Charlemagne  and 
improved  upon  by  Charles  II.  of  England. 

Still  the  man  sat  on  the  fence. 

BOOK  II. 

The  fence  surrounded  a tall,  gloomy  building. 
The  building  had  shutters  at  the  window.  The  man 
was  a Frenchman.  There  were  other  Frenchmen 


200 


THE  WORLD'' S 


in  the  same  neighborhood.  They  were  in  bed. 
Frenchmen  were  discovered  by  Ohver  Cromwell, 
and  subsequently  patented  by  the  author.  They 
are  copyrighted.  All  Frenchmen  not  hearing  the 
signature  of  the  author  are  spurious. 

It  was  night.  It  was  a dark  night.  Darkness 
is  a shadow  that  rises  from  the  ground  when  the 
sun  goes  down. 

The  man  on  the  fence  was  thinking.  His  name 
was  Lippiatt. 


BOOK  III. 

Lippiatt  loved  Maronette.  Maronette  was  a girl. 
She  knew  Lippiatt.  She  did  not  know  that  Lippi- 
att loved  her. 

Maronette  hved  in  the  gloomy  house.  Lippiatt 
did  not  tell  Maronette  that  he  loved  her.  He  was 
contented  to  sit  on  the  fence  in  front  of  her  house. 
He  was  a quiet  man.  Like  all  Frenchmen,  he  was 
the  bravest  man  in  thirteen  counties.  He  was  a 
tailor.  A tailor  is  a man  who  promises  to  have 
your  clothes  done  Saturday,  and  then  brings  them 
around  week  after  next. 

Lippiatt  was  poor.  All  heroes  are  poor. 

BOOK  IV. 

Maronette  opened  a window  and  shied  an  old 
boot  at  Lippiatt. 


wrr  AND  WITS. 


m 


“Is  that  you,  Lippiatt?”  she  said. 

“Yes,’'  said  Lippiatt. 

Maronette  laughed. 

“My  father  says  I must  marry  the  man  who  will 
bring  him  the  Norwegian  maelstrom,”  said  Maro- 
nette. 

Lippiatt  got  oh  the  fence  and  walked  away. 

BOOK  V. 

Like  all  tailors  in  France,  Lippiatt  was  a good 
sailor.  He  stole  a boat  and  started  for  the  coast  of 
Norway.  A fearful  storm  came  on.  The  world 
drew  on  a heavy  cloak  to  protect  it  from  the  storm. 
The  sea  opened  a thousand  mouths  to  swallow  Lip- 
piatt. It  was  hungry  for  him.  His  beard  and  hair 
were  filled  with  salt.  Great  grasping  hands  of 
darkness  reached  down  to  snatch  him. 

Lippiatt  only  laughed. 

The  scene  grew  wilder.'  Monsters  of  water 
crowded  against  the  boat.  They  were  reaching  for 
Lippiatt.  He  steered  his  boat  to  avoid  them. 

A wave  averages  twenty  feet  in  height.  It  con- 
tains 400  tons  of  water.  It  is  thicker  at  the  base 
than  at  the  top.  In  that  respect  it  is  hke  a pyra- 
mid. But  it  is  not  three-cornered.  It  is  oval  in 
shape.  A round  wave  is  a water-spout.  A water- 
spout is  thick  at  the  top  and  bottom  and  slender  in 
the  middle. 


202 


THE  WORLD'S 


# 

Lippiatt  knew  this. 

He  was  afraid  of  waves.  He  was  fearful  of 
water- spouts. 

BOOK  VI. 

In  four  days  Lippiatt  arrived  at  the  maelstrom. 

“It  is  for  Maronette,”  said  he. 

The  maelstrom  is  shaped  like  a funnel.  The 
lower  end  is  at  the  bottom.  The  mouth  is  at  the 
toj).  It  is  caused  hy  the  tides.  The  Norwegians 
suppose  it  is  caused  by  a hole  in  the  ground.  Lip- 
piatt knew  better. 

He  went  down  in  the  maelstrom  and  fastened  a 
rope  around  the  lower  end.  To  this  rope  he  ad- 
justed blocks  and  pulleys.  Then  he  climbed  out  of 
the  pit  and  fastened  the  other  end  of  the  rope  to 
the  masthead.  The  blocks  gave  him  a purchase. 

He  rested. 

BOOK  VII. 

Having  rested,  Lippiatt  pulled  on  the  rope.  He 
pulled  the  maelstrom  inside  out.  The  bottom  was 
then  at  the  top.  It  spun  around  like  an  inverted 
top. 

Lippiatt  drove  a staple  into  it  and  fastened  his 
line.  Then  he  set  sail.  The  maelstrom  followed. 

‘T  shall  marry  Maronette,”  he  said. 

BOOK  VIII. 

Another  man  sat  on  the  picket  fence.  It  was 


203 


WIT  AND  WITS. 

Goudenay.  Goudenay  loved  Maronette.  Maronette 
loved  Goudenay. 

Goudenay  saw  something  coming  in  the  harbor. 

“What’s  that?”  he  asked. 

It  looked  like  an  inverted  funnel.  It  was  1000 
feet  high. 

“I  don’t  know,”  said  Maronette. 

She  was  right.  She  didn’t. 

BOOK  IX. 

Lippiatt  disembarked.  He  took  the  maelstrom 
on  his  shoulders.  Then  he  went  to  the  gloomy 
house.  He  hung  the  maelstrom  on  the  picket 
fence. 

“How  do  you  do,  Goudenay?”  he  asked. 

He  knew  Goudenay.  He  had  disappointed  him 
about  some  trousers. 

“I  am  happy,”  said  Goudenay.  “I  am  going  to 
marry  Maronette.” 

Lippiatt  looked  at  Maronette. 

“Yes,”  she  said,  “I  marry  Goudenay  this  morn- 
ing.” 

# BOOK  X. 

Lippiatt  went  to  the  wedding. 

He  gave  Maronette  a silver  card-receiver. 

Maronette  smiled. 

Lippiatt  went  back  to  the  picket  fence.  He  ate 
the  maelstrom  up. 


20i 


THE  WORTHS 


. BOOK  XI. 

As  the  wedding  party  went  home  they  saw  a 
dead  bod}'  lying  beside  the  picket  fence.  The  point 
of  the  maelstrom  was  sticking  out  of  the  mouth. 
“Good  gracious!”  said  Maronette. 

“Holy  smoke!”  exclaimed  Goudenay. 

It  was  Lippi att. 


(SEf^r^OLD  ^lOKBLETS. 

THE  MONEY-LENDEK. 

The  best  fellow  in  the  world,  sir;  to  get  money 
of;  for  as  he  sends  you  half  cash,  half  wine,  why, 
if  you  can’t  take  up  his  bill,  you’ve  always  poison 
at  hand  for  a remedy. 

A SCOUNDEEL. 

“That  scoundrel,  sir ! Why,  he’d  sharpen  a knife 
upon  his  father’s  tombstone  to  kill  his  mother!” 

ANCESTKY. 

“As  for  ancestry,”  says  Smoke,  “truth  to  speak, 
I am  one  of  those  who  may  take  the  cuckoo  for 
their  crest,  and  for  their  motto,  ‘Nothing.’  ” 

BEED  ON  THE  BOAEDS. 

When  Morris  had  the  Haymarket  Theater,  Jer- 
rold,  on  a certain  occasion,  had  reason  to  find  fault 
with  the  strength,  or,  rather,  the  want  of  strength 
of  the  company. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


Morris  expostulated  and  said,  “Why,  there’s  Y 
" , lie  was  hred  on  these  hoards!” 

Jerrold  replied,  “He  looks  as  though  he’d  been 
cut  out  of  them.” 

A CAUTIOUS  LOVER. 

“When  I courted  her,”  said  Spreadweasel,  “I 
took  lawyer’s  advice,  and  signed  every  letter  to  my 
love,  ‘Yours,  without  prejudice!’  ” 

' A lover’s  aspiration. 

The  sky’s  blue  again, — blue  as  your  precious 
eyes,  and  the  raindrops  hang  upon  the  leaves  as 
bright  as  the  diamonds  I wish  I was  rich  enough 
to  give  you. 


BEimTEI^  ©HAN  A UO^PE. 

His  ardent  vows  she,  trembhng,  heard. 
Her  cheeks  with  brightest  blushes  dyed. 
And  as  her  glances  sought  the  sward 
She  softly  sighed. 

“That  you  are  diffident  and  shy,” 

He  said,  “those  downcast  looks  denote; 
You  will  not  speak?  then  you  and  I 
Will  take  a vote. 

“It  is  an  easy  thing  to  do : 

A ballot,  sweetest,  cast  with  me 
The  question  being,  shall  we  two 
United  be?” 


206 


THE  ^SORLD'^S 


Again  she  let  her  lashes  fall ; 

Then  murmured  with  a charming  air: 
“Dear  Jack,  why  need  we  vote  at  all, 
Why  can’t  we  pair?” 


^ eHUNNYGI^AMMBS. 

Clara  Morris  says:  “Mr.  Tilden  and  I have 
jointly  made  just  about  the  most  thorough  study 
of  nerves  and  their  disorders  than  can  be  imagined. 
We  haye  learned  everything  concerning  our  dis- 
eases except  how  to  cure  them.” 

It  was  a charming  little  lady  who  the  other  day 
said  on  the  Boulevard  des  Italiens  to  an  Italian 
vender  of  statuettes,  who  offered  her  an  effigy  of 
the  Venus  de  Milo : “How  is  it  that  Milo  makes  all 
his  Yenuses  without  arms?” 

“What  are  the  Blenkinsop  girls  in  mourning 
for?” 

“Their  parrot.” 

“In  mourning  for  a parrot!  Why,  it’s  a positive 
sacrilege.” 

“Oh,  but  this  one  could  repeat  the  Lord’s  prayer, 
you  know.” 

A Minneapolis  girl  went  to  buy  gingerbread  the 
other  day  and  returned  home  married.  It  is  said 


“HOW  IS  IT  THAT  MILO  MAKES  ALL  THE  VENUSES  WITHOUT  ARMS  ?” 


P.  206. 


M 

iLi‘. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


207 


that  confectioners  in  that  town  can  not  now  begin 
to  supply  the  demand  for  gingerbread. 

Would-be  fascinating  brother-in-law  to  sister-in- 
law:  ‘‘Well,  Maria,  what  do  you  think  of  the  ‘de- 
ceased wife’s  sister  bill?” 

Maria:  “Oh,  I don’t  mind,  if  they  don’t  make 
it  compulsory.’  ” 


liINGOLN’S  OP  A IN  REW  SALEM. 

Among  the  numerous  delegations  which  thronged 
Washington  in  the  early  part  of  the  war,  was  one 
from  New  York,  which  urged  very  strenuously  the 
sending  of  a fleet  to  the  southern  cities — Charles- 
ton, Mobile  and  Savannah— with  the  object  of 
drawing  off  the  rebel  army  from  Washington.  Mr. 
Lincoln  said  the  object  reminded  him  of  the  case 
of  a girl  in  New  Salem,  who  was  greatly  troubled 
with  a “singing”  in  her  head.  Various  remedies 
were  suggested  by  the  neighbors,  but  nothing  tried 
afforded  any  relief.  At  last  a man  came  along — “a 
common-sense  sort  of  man,”  said  he,  inclining  his 
head  towards  the  gentleman  complimentarily-“who 
was  asked  to  prescribe  for  the  difficulty.  After  due 
inquiry  and  examination,  he  said  the  cure  was  very 
simple. 

‘What  is  it?’  was  the  question. 


208 


THE  WORLHS 


‘Make  plaster  of  psalvi-tunes^  and  apply  to  her 
feet,  and  draw  the  “singing”  doion^'  was  the  rejoin- 
der.” 


Br^AVB  AND  Beautiful. 

They  grew  in  beauty  side  by  side, 

They  filled  one  home  with  glee. 

Jack  was  a ^s^^all  pitcher;  Jim — 

A cricketer Avas  he. 

All  perfect  stood  three  noble  youths 
In  beautiful  Aprile. 

Their  pie-crust  mouths  were  ever  wreathed 
With  one  seraphic  smile. 

But  ere  the  sunimer  time  had  waned 
And  overcoats  had  come, 

Jack's  nose  had  lost  its  only  bridge, 

Jim’s  ear  its  only  drum. 


P yOUNG  fflUSIGAL  ©I^ITIG. 

Little  Mamie  was  returning  with  her  mother  and 
father  from  a “piano  recital”  by  a celebrated  vir- 
tuoso who  had  created  considerable  musical  enthu- 
siasm among  his  audience. 

“Didn’t  he  play  the  piano  exquisitely?”  said  the 
mother. 


LfBRART 

OF  TSE 

0.wrR;;.TF  tF  itu;’0''', 


/ 


“HE  IS  UNSOCIABLE. 


P.  209. 


wrr  AND  WITS, 


209 


“He  did  indeed,”  answered  Mamie’s  father. 

“Play  it!”  exclaimed  Mamie,  “why,  mamma,  he 
looked  to  me  a good  deal  more  as  if  he  was  working 
it,  and  real  hard,  too.” — Merchant  Traveler, 


Sociable. 

“Do  yon  know  Mr.  Fangle?”  asked  a lady  caller 
of  Mrs.  Snaggs. 

“Oh,  yes:  I know  him  and  his  wife  very  well.” 

“I  hear  he  is  a socialist.  Is  that  so?” 

“No,  indeed,  he  isn’t.  He  is  one  of  the  most  un- 
sociable men  I ever  knew.  Poor,  dear  Mrs.  Fangle 
can’t  get  hina  to  stay  in  the  house  one  night  a 
week.” 


''flMUSBMBNJU.’' 

“No,”  remarked  Fogg,  “I  don’t  go  to  places  of 
amusement  any  more.” 

“What  do  you  mean?”  asked  Brown.  “Didn’t  I 
see  you  at  the  theater  night  before  last?” 

“Yery  likely,”  replied  Fogg,  “but  you  can’t 
hardly  call  a theater  a place  of  amusement  when 
there  are  two  women  with  their  heads  together  in 
front  of  you  and  two  confounded  chatterers  right 
behind  you.” 


14 


210 


THE  ^Y0BLH8 


fl  ^f)'UMOi^ous  Speech — Liingoln  in  the 
BLAGI^  r^AWI^  ^AI^. 

The  friends  of  General  Cass,  when  that  gentle- 
man was  a candidate  for  the  presidency,  endearored 
to  endow  him  with  a military  reputation.  Mr. 
Lincoln,  at  that  time  a representative  in  Congress, 
delivered  a speech  before  the  House,  which,  in  its 
allusions  to  General  Cass,  was  exquisitely  sarcastic 
and  irresistibly  humorous : 

“By  the  way,  Mr.  Speaker,”  said  Mr.  Lincoln, 
“do  you  know  I am  a military  hero?  Yes,  sir,  in 
the  days  of  the  Black  Hawk  War,  I fought,  bled 
and  came  away.  Speaking  of  General  Cass’  career 
reminds  me  of  my  own.  I was  not  at  Stillman’s 
Defeat,  hut  I was  about  as  near  it  as  Cass  to  Hull’s 
surrender ; and . like  him  I saw  the  place  very  soon 
afterward.  It  is  quite  certain  I did  not  break  my 
sword,  for  I had  none  to  break ; but  I bent  my 
musket  pretty  badly  on  one  occassion.  * * ^ 

If  General  Cass  went  in  advance  of  me  in  picking 
whortleberries,  I guess  I surpassed  him  in  charges 
upon  the  wild  onions.  If  he  saw  any  live,  fighting 
Indians,  it  was  more  than  I did,  but  I had  a good 
many  bloody  struggles  with  the  musquitoes ; and 
although  I never  fainted  from  loss  of  blood,  I can 
truly  say  I was  often  very  hungry.”  Mr.  Lincoln 
concluded  by  saying  if  he  ever  turned  democrat 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


211 


and  should  run  for  the  Presidency,  he  hoped  they 
would  not  make  fun  of  him  by  attempting  to  make 
him  a military  hero ! 

©HEY  Didn’iii  Heed  It. 

Philanthropist  (collecting) — I am  soliciting  sub- 
scriptions for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  girls  who  work 
in  the  cigarette  manufactories.  They  make  just 
enough  to  pay  their  board,  and  have  nothing  left  to 
purchase  clothes. 

Crusty  Old  Gentleman — (who  has  seen  pictures 
of  the  cigarette-maker  in  the  cigar  stores) — I guess 
it  doesn’t  cost  them  much  for  clothes. 


^ Gi^eat  (Dan’s  Blundei^. 

First  Gentleman — There  is  a treasure  for  you, 
a bust  of  Julius  Caesar.” 

Second  Gentleman — “Julius  Caesar  was  a great 
man.  He  was  a great  soldier  and  a very  fair  poli- 
tician. But  I always  thought  it  rather  absurd  in 
him  to  write  a book  for  beginners  in  Latin.  Pos- 
itively I think  it  has  injured  his  reputation. 


She  1(new  I71S  I^igtlh^es. 

“My  most  terrible  critic,”  said  Mr.  A the 

artist  of  this  city,  the  other  day,  “is  an  old  lady 


212 


THE  WORTHS 


who  frequently  comes  in  here  and  never  finishes 
her  visit  without  telling  me  how  much  I paint  like 

Mr.  B . A few  days  ago  when  she  was  here 

she  rushed  up  to  a couple  of  little  sketches  I had 
on  the  wall  and  said:  ^There,  now,  I like  those. 

You  didn’t  copy  B ’s  style  when  you  painted 

them.’  Some  other  artists  who  were  in  the  corner 
were  heard  to  snicker  audibly,  for  I had  just  been 
telling  them  before  my  critic  came  in  that  those 

self-same  pictures  were  by  B himself  and  that 

I had  got  them  by  trading  with  him.” 


Squibs. 

“Did  Blobson  go  to  the  reception  in  full  dress 
last  evening?”  asked  Popinjay  of  a friend  of  his, 
who  was  there.  “No,”  was  the  reply,  “his  dress 
wasn’t  quite  full,  but  he  w^as.” 

A Texas  gentleman  has  observed  that  when  he 
goes  out  hunting,  and  has  his  gun  with  him,  and 
wants  to  ride  on  the  street  car,  he  has  never  yet 
had  occasion  to  signal  a street  car  driver  twice. — 
Texas  Siftings. 

A sermon  is  always  short  to  the  woman  who 
wears  a new  bonnet  to  church  for  the  first  time. 

The  prettiest  things  in  spring  bonnets — girls. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


21S 


Didn’ih  F^eel  Lcii^e  ©alining. 

He  stood  beneath  lier  window  there, 

While  gazed  upon  him  from  above 
The  eyes  of  her  lie  deemed  most  fair 
In  the  bright  brilliancy  of  love. 

“Oh,  speak  to  me!”  the  young  man  cried. 

“Oh,  speak  to  me!  Why  art  thou  still?” 
She  only  answered  with  a sigh. 

And  leaned  upon  the  window-sill. 

“By  all  the  vows  of  fondest  love. 

By  all  out  plighted  hopes  and  fears. 

Oh,  speak  to  me,  my  dear!  my  dove!” 

She  only  answered  with  her  tears. 

Why  stood  she  silent?  What  the  cause 
To  leave  her  lover  in  his  doubt? 

She  did  not  dare  to  move  her  jaws. 

Her  new  false  teeth  had  fallen  out? 


FJemai^p^able  Fall. 

“I  had  rather  a bad  fall  last  night ; remained  un- 
conscious nearly  eight  hours.” 

“Bless  me!  and  walking  about  as  usual  to-day?” 
“Yes;  it  didn’t  injure  me  in  the  least.  The  fact 
is,  I rather  enjoyed  it.” 

“Wonderful!  How  did  you  fall?” 

“Fell  asleep.” 


214 


THE  MORLHS 


Was  Glad. 

A certain  Austin  landlord  is  a very  diffusive  soid; 
of  a man,  much  given  to  speaking  before  he  thinks. 
He  recentl}^  met  Prof.  Snore,  his  new  tenant. 

“Good  morning,  professor,  good  morning.  Glad 
to  see  you  looking  so  well.  How  do  like  the 
house?” 

“Very  much,  indeed.” 

“Glad  to  hear  it;  very  glad  to  hear  it.” 

“Yes,  sir  ; I like  it.  I hope  to  die  in  the  house.” 

“I  hope  so,  too.  Glad  to  liear  you  talk  that 
way.” — Texas  Siftings. 


She  r)AD  NO  fflusiG  in  Soul. 

A charming  conservatory  girl  of  the  historian’s 
comprehensive  yet  discriminating  acquaintance 
tells  him  how,  while  she  was  crossing  Franklin 
square  the  other  day,  she  was  accosted  by  a well- 
dressed  and  fairly  intelligent-looking  woman  with : 

“Can  any  one  go  into  the  conservatory  and  see 
the  flowers?” 

The  conservatory  girl  was  amazed  that  the  fame 
of  the  few  drooping  and  haggard  tropical  plants 
standing  here  and  there  in  the  corridors  should 
have  spread  abroad  or  .gained  any  reputation  for 
beauty,  and  she  said: 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


215 


“Keally,  madam,  there  are  no  flowers  in  the  con- 
servatory worth  a visit.” 

“Oh!”  she  replied,  “only  fruits  and  vegetables?” 

The  charming  student  was  compelled  to  inform 
her  inquirer  that  in  that  particular  conservatory 
fruits  and  vegetables,  as  well  as  other  luxuries  of 
life,  were  exceedingly  rare. 


BI^EAI^ING  iFHE  FUf^NUIiUl^E. 

“They  will  have  to  get  some  new  benches  in  the 
Enghsh  parliament  now,  I suppose,”  observed  Mrs. 
Snaggs. 

“What  makes  you  think  that?”  asked  her  hus- 
band. 

“The  paper  said  that  when  Gladstone  finished 
his  speech  the  English  and  Scotch  benches  broke 
into  cheers,  and  of  course  they’ll  either  have  to 
repair  them  or  get  new  ones.” 


©ESTING  Y}IS  FjEI^OISM.- 

He  had  been  courting  a west  end  girl  for  a long 
time,  but  has  quit  now.  It  happened  Sunday  night 
after  church.  They  were  sitting  as  close  together 
as  the  sofa  would  permit.  She  looked  with  ineffable 
tenderness  into  his  noble  blue  eyes. 

“George,”  she  murmured,  with  a tremor  in  her 


216 


THE  WORTHS 


voice,  “didn’t  you  tell  me  once  you  would  be  will- 
ing to  do  any  great  act  of  heroism  for  my  sake?” 

“Yes,  Fannie;  and  I gladly  reiterate  the  state- 
ment now,”  he  replied,  in  confident  tones.  “Xo 
noble  Roman  of  old  was  fired  with  a loftier  ambi- 
tion, a braver  resolution,  than  I.” 

‘XYell,  George,  I want  you  to  do  something  real 
heroic  for  me.” 

“Speak,  darling;  what  is  it?” 

“x\sk  me  to  be  your  wife.  We’ve  been  fooling 
long  enough." 

The  sequel  is  stated  in  the  preface. — Washington 
Critic. 


^OI^ES'BY  ^Er^I^OLiD. 

LOVE. 

They  say  love’s  like  the  measles — all  the  worse 
when  it  comes  late  in  life. 

THE  CHANGES  OF  THE  HEAET. 

“When  we  last  met,  ma’am,  my  heart  was  like  a 
summer  walnut, — green  and  tender;  now,  I can 
tell  you,  it’s  plaguy  hard  in  the  shell.” 

DAMPED  AEDOE. 

JeiTold  and  Laman  Blanchard  were  strolling 
together  about  London,  discussing  passionately  a 
plan  for  joining  a patriot  in  Greece.  Jerrold,  telling 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


217 


the  story  afterward,  said,  “But  a shower  of  rain 
came  on  and  washed  all  the  Greece  out  of  us.” 

jerkold’s  luggage. 

When  Jerrold  was  once  returning  from  the  con  - 
tinent, a Folkstone  custom-house  officer  seized  his 
carpet-bag — a very  small  one — and  said,  ‘‘I  cannot 
let  that  pass;  you  must  tell  me  what’s  in  it!” 

“In  this  reticule!”  Jerrold  replied;  “well,  you 
shall  see  it;  but  I can  assure  you  that  it’s  only  a 
very  small  hippopotamus.” 


STOr^Y  BY  lilNGOLN’S  UNGLE. 

No  one  ever  took  offense  at  Uncle  Mord’s  stories 
— not  even  the  ladies.  I heard  him  once  tell  a 
bevy  of  fashionable  girls  that  he  knew  a very  large 
woman  who  had  a husband  so  small  that  in  the 
night  she  often  mistook  him  for  the  baby,  and  that 
upon  one  occasion  she  took  him  up  and  was  sing- 
ing to  him  a soothing  lullaby,  when  he  awoke  and 
told  her  that  she  was  mistaken,  that  the  baby  was 
on  the  other  side  of  the  bed. 


I)OW  UlNGOLN  AND  iUDGE  B SWAPPED 

r^oi^sEs. 

When  Abraham  Lincoln  was  a lawyer  in  Illinois, 
he  and  a certain  Judge  once  got  to  bantering  one 


218  THE  WORTHS 

another  about  trading  horses ; and  it  was  agreed 
that  the  next  morning  at  9 o’clock  they  should 
make  a trade,  the  liorses  to  be  unseen  up  to  that 
hour,  and  no  backing  out,  under  a forfeiture  of 
$25. 

At  the  hour  appointed  the  Judge  came  up,  lead- 
ing the  sorriest-looking  specimen  of  a horse  ever 
seen  in  those  parts.  In  a few  minutes  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  seen  approaching  with  a wooden  saw-horse 
upon  his  shoulders.  Great  were  the  shouts  and 
the  laughter  of  the  crowd,  and  both  were  greatly 
increased  when  Mr.  Lincoln,  on  surveying  the 
Judge’s  animal,  set  down  his  saw-horse,  and  ex- 
claimed: “Well,  Judge,  this  is  the  first  time  I 
ever  got  the  worst  of  it  in  a horse  trade.” 

lOllUTIGISMS  BY  - 

CONTENTMENT.' 

Contentment  is  the  poor  man’s  bank. 

THE  TIME  FOE  MOUENING. 

When  rich  rogues  are  merry,  honest  folks  may 
go  into  mourning. 

TEEASON. 

Treason  is  like  diamonds;  there’s  nothing  to  be 
made  of  it  by  the  small  trader. 

A EOGUE  INDEED. 

Had  he  to  cut  his  neighbor’s  throat,  he’d  first 
sharpen  his  knife  on  the  church  marble. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


219 


MR.  pepper’s  party. 

Jerrold  went  to  a party  at  which  a Mr.  Pepper 
had  assembled  all  his  friends.  Jerrold  said  to  his 
host,  on  entering  the  room,  “My  dear  Mr.  Pepper, 
how  glad  you  must  he  to  see  all  your  friends  mus- 
tered!” 

A PROFESSOR. 

Indeed,  there  are  few  things,  from  Chinese  to 
backgammon,  of  which  I am  not  a professor.  I 
dabble,  too,  a good  deal  in  bar  and  pulpit  eloquence. 
Ha,  sir  1 the  barristers  I’ve  fitted  for  the  woolsack 
— the  heads  I’ve  patted  into  shape  for  mitres! 
Even  the  stuttering  parish  clerk  of  Tithepig-cum- 
Tottlepot,  he  took  only  three  lessons,  and  nobody 
knew  his  “Amen”  for  the  same  thing.  And  then 
I’ve  a great  name  for  knife-and-fork  eloquence. 
Yes — I teach  people  after-dinner  thanks.  I don’t 
brag ; but,  show  me  the  man  who,  like  me,  can  bring 
in  the  happiest  moment  of  a gentleman’s  life  at 
only  a- crown  a lesson. 


EINGOLN’S  fiDVIGB  iPO  A Bl^OMINENip 

Bagheloi^. 

Upon  the  bethrothal  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  to 
the  Princess  Alexandra,  Queen  Victoria  sent  a letter 
to  each  of  the  European  sovereigns,  and  also  to 
President  Lincoln,  announcing  the  fact.  Lord 


220 


THE  WORLD'^S 


Lyons,  her  embassador  at  Washington, — a “bache- 
lor” by  the  way, — requested  an  audience  of  Mr. 
Lincoln,  that  he  might  present  this  important  doc- 
ument in  person.  At  the  time  appointed  he  was 
received  at  the  White  House,  in  company  with  Mr. 
Seward. 

“May  it  please  your  Excellency,”  said  Lord 
Lyons,  “I  hold  in  my  hand  an  autograph  letter  from 
my  royal  mistress.  Queen  Victoria,  which  I have 
been  commanded  to  present  your  Excellency.  In 
it  she  informs  jmur  Excellency,  that  her  son,  his 
Royal  Highness  the  Prince  of  Wales,  is  about  to 
contract  a matrimonial  alliance  with  her  Royal 
Highness  the  Princess  Alexandra  of  Denmark.” 

After  continuing  in  this  strain  for  a few  minutes, 
Lord  Lyons  tendered  the  letter  to  the  President 
and  awaited  his  reply.  It  was  short,  simple,  and 
expressive,  and  consisted  simply  of  the  words : 

. “Lord  Lyons,  go  thou  and  do  likeiviseE 

It  is  doubtful  if  an  English  ambassador  was 
ever  addressed  in  this  manner  before,  and  it  would 
be  interesting  to  learn  what  success  he  met  with  in 
putting  the  reply  in  diplomatic  language  when  he 
reported  it  to  her  Majesty. 

©HE  Big  Huisange. 

One  evening  Diogenes  was  sitting  at  the  theatre 
sadly  contemplating  a feminine  hat  as  big  as  a 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


221 


poultry-yard,  which  *it  very  much  resembled.  “I 
wish  I had  a club,”  he  said,  in  his  pathetic  way,  “I 
would  like  to  hit  that  woman  one  good  crack  on 

” he  hesitated.  “The  thing  she  carries  her 

brains  in?”  suggested  his  friend.  “Ah,  no,”  replied 
the  cynic,  “the  thing  she  wears  her  hat  on.” — 
Brooklyn  Eagle. 


AND  DAUGHTBf^  gAI^VBNU. 

“Look  here,  daughter,”  said  Mrs.  Parvenu  to 
her  eldest,  “I’m  not  going  to  have  you  deranging 
my  parlor  with  your  athletic  notions  any  longer, 
and  I shall  attend  to  it  myself.” 

“Taint  mieux,”  replied  the  daughter  in  elegant 
seminary  French. 

“ ’Taint  you,  eh?”  snapped  the  mother.  “Well, 
I’d  like  to  know  who  the  mischief  it  is,  then?” 


©HB  gi^oPBssoi^  Dusting  I^ugs. 

Speaking  of  the  music  we  hear  in  the  spring, 
reminds  the  Historian  of  the  carpets  they  beat  in 
the  spring,  tra  la!  and  of  the  singular  experience 
of  his  friend.  Prof.  X.,  an  excellent  educator  and 
profound  student,  who  does  not  spurn  a reasonable 
share  of  homely  household  duties  that  fall  to  the 
lot  of  every  head  of  a New  England  family  of 
moderate  circumstances. 


222 


THE  WORTHS 


The  other  morning,  when  the  professor  was  in 
his  den  deeply  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  an 
abstruse  subject,  his  wife  opened  the  door  and 
called  softly  to  him  : 

‘‘My  dear,  could  you  help  us  in  our  house-clean- 
ing by  beating  just  three  rugs  that  you’ll  find  out 
under  the  south  window  of  the  parlor?  If  you 
will,  please  take  them  one  at  a time  out  into  the 
back  yard,  and  beat  them  and  hang  them  on  the 
line,  and  I’ll  be  so  much  obliged.” 

The  professor  arose,  sei^d  his  most  serviceable 
walking-stick,  and  went  into  the  yard,  still  deeply 
absorbed  in  the  learned  meditations  that  had  oc- 
cupied him  in  the  house.  He  took  one  of  the  three 
rugs  from  under  the  parlor  window,  transferred  it 
to  the  back  yard,  beat  it  long  and  manfully,  and 
hung  it  on  the  line.  When  he  came  back  for  an- 
other rug  he  was  still  too  much  absorbed  to  notice 
that  there  were  still  three  rugs  under  the  window ; 
and  when  he  had  beaten  another,  and  had  hung 
that  out,  and  had  come  back  again,  and  there  w^ere 
still  three  rugs  under  the  window,  his  meditations 
never  switched  off  from  the  subject  of  their  con- 
centration to  the  regular  and  mysterious  renewal 
of  the  third  rug. 

And  so  he  kept  on  beating  those  three  rugs  and 
meditating  until  the  morning  wore  to  midday,  and 
the  professor  began  to  grow  hungry ; and  when  the 


IT  OCCURRED  TO  HIM  TO  LOOK  AT  THE  CLOTHES-LINE. 


P.  22^. 


M.vm 


■ % 

J 

1 

I 

i 

■s 

i 

i 


4 


i 


( 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


223 


yearnings  of  appetite  actually  brought  his  contem- 
plation down  to  sublunary  things,  it  occurred  to 
him  to  look  at  the  clothes-line,  and  there  he  counted 
no  less  than  sixteen  rugs  all  beautifully  beaten — a 
charming  vision  of  the  Orient ! 

If  he  had  been  in  the  next  house  at  that  moment 
he  might  have  heard  the  remark : 

“I  wonder  what  in  the  world  Mrs.  X.  has  been 
putting  her  rugs  out  of  the  window  one  at  a time 
all  the  morning  for,  for  the  professor  to  beat.” 

The  prudent  housewife  knows  how  to  utilize  to 
domestic  advantage  all  the  forces  and  dispositions 
of  her  husband’s  nature. — Boston  Record. 


©IKYING  IPHB  SBI^IOUS 

GXPBI^IMENT., 

f * 

A deputation  of  bankers  were  one  day  introduced 
to  the  President  by  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury. 

One  of  the  party,  Mr.  P of  Chelsea,  Mass.,  took 

occasion  to  refer  to  the  severity  of  the  tax  laid  by 
Congress  upon  the  State  Banks. 

“Now,”  said  Mr.  Lincoln,  ‘That  reminds  me  of  a 
circumstance  that  took  place  in  a neighborhood 
where  I lived  when  I was  a boy.  In  the  spring  of 
the  year  the  farmers  were  very  fond  of  the  dish 
which  they  called  greens,  though  the  fashionable 
name  for  it  now-a-days  is  spinach,  I believe.  One 


224 


THE  WOBLH& 


day  after  dinner,  a large  family  were  taken  very  ill. 
The  doctor  was  called  in,  who  attributed  it  to  the 
greens,  of  which  all  had  freely  partaken.  Living  in 
the  family  was  a half-witted  hoy  named  Jake.  On 
a subsequent  occasion,  v/hen  greens  had  been  gath- 
ered for  dinner,  the  head  of  the  house  said:  ‘Now, 
boys,  before  running  any  further  risk  in  this  thing, 
we  will  first  try  them  on  Jake.  If  he  stands  it,  we 
are  all  right.’  And  just  so,  I suppose,”  said  Mr. 
Lincoln,  “Congress  thought  it  would  try  this  tax 
on  the  State  Bank!” 


SGINJPILIiATIONS. 

It  seems  strange  that  we  never  meet  the  man 
who  has  drawn  the  lottery  prize ; but  we  hear  of 
the  man  who  came  within  one  or  two  hundred  of 
it. 

Take  the  biU  of  fare  literally : Edith — I’d  like 
some  boiled  dodo,  mamma. 

Mamma  (to  waiter) — The  child  means  boiled 
ditto.  AMu  may  bring  me  a small  shce,  too. 

Judge  (indignantly) — These  sums  which  you 
stole,  fruits  of  long  years  of  honest  work  you  squan- 
dered in  wretched  fooleries. 

Prisoner  (with  emotion)— I could  not  keep  that 
money.  It  weighed  too  much  on  my  conscience. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


225 


The  conductors  on  the- Koute  are  a very 

bright  set  of  men.  A traveler  asked  one  of  them, 
“Will  I have  time  to  get  something  to  eat  at  the 
next  station?”  “Yes,  you  will  have  time  enough  if 
you  are  not  going  any  further  bn  this  train.” 

A man  whose  daughter  had  married  away  from 
home,  wrote  to  inquire  what  kind  of  a man  her 
husband  was,  and  received  for  reply,  ‘T  tell  you, 
father,  he’s  a prime  good  whistler,  and  you  never 
saw  such  a hand  for  flapjacks  in  all  your  days. 
He’s  got  blue  eyes,  and  his  father  belongs  to  the 
church.” 

A bookseller  in  Tokio,  Japan,  desiring  to  sell  his 
wares,  thus  advertised  them  in  the  newspapers: 
The  advantages  of  our  establishment: — 1,  Prices 
cheap  as  a lottery.  2,  Books  elegant  as  a single 
girl.  3,  Print  clear  as  crystal.  4,  Paper  tough  as 
elephant’s  hide.  5,  Customers  treated  as  politely 
as  by  the  rival  steamship  companies.  6,  Articles 
as  plentiful  as  in  a library.  7,  Goods  despatched 
as  expeditiously  as  a cannon  ball. 

Two  men  were  on  a Broadway  car  the  other  day, 
who  were  debating  the  condition  of  trade.  One 
was  gloomy.  The  other  failed  utterly  by  argument 
to  raise  him  to  a more  sanguine  view  of  things. 
He  at  last  said: 


15 


226 


THE  WORTHS 


“Well,  I didn’t  like  to  tell  you,  but  my  latest 
line  of  business  has  proven  bad.” 

“What  are  you  in?”  asked  the  gloomy  chap. 

“Lime,”  was  the  reply. 

“What’s  the  matter  with  the  lime  trade?”  was 
the  unsuspecting  inquiry. 

“Slack,”  said  the  sanguine  man  as  he  grinned 
broadly,  while  the  people  in  the  car  laughed  at  the 
way  he  had  entrapped  the  man  of  shadows. 


lilNGOIiN  IN  - 

Senator  McDonald  states  that  he  saw  a jury  trial 
in  Illinois,  at  which  Lincoln  defended  an  old  man 
charged  with  assault  and  battery.  No  blood  had 
been  spilled,  but  there  was  malice  in  the  j)rosecu- 
tion,  and  the  chief  witness  was  eager  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  On  cross-examination,  Lincoln  gave 
him  rope  and  drew  him  out ; asked  him  how  long 
the  fight  lasted,  and  how  much  ground  it  covered. 
The  witness  thought  the  fight  must  have  lasted 
half  an  hour,  and  covered  an  acre  of  ground.  Lin- 
coln called  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  nobody 
was  hurt,  and  then,  with  an  inimitable  air,  asked 
him  if  he  didn’t  think  it  was  “a  mighty  small  crop 
for  an  acre  of  gronndT  The  jury  rejected  the 
case  with  contempt  as  beneath  the  dignity  of  twelve 
brave,  good  men  and  true. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


227 


Iqe  I<;new  ©hem 

An  old  New  York  gentleman,  meeting  his  grand- 
son, said  to  him,  in  an  impressive  tone  of  voice : 

“My  dear  boy,  I hear  some  very  discouraging 
reports  about  you.  They  say  that  you  go  behind 
the  scenes  and  toy  with  the  actresses.  Is  that  so?” 

“Yes,  uncle;  to  a certain  extent.” 

“Drop  them,  my  boy.  I’ve  been  there  when  I 
was  at  your  age,  half  a century  ago.  They  are  a 
bad  lot.” 

“But,  uncle,  actresses  of  to-day  are  very  different 
from  what  they  were  when  you  were  a boy.” 

“Not  much.  They  are  the  same  identical  act- 
resses.”— Texas  Siftings. 


So. 

A New  Yorker  who  was  traveling  in  Maryland 
came  across  a big  dry  ditch  about  forty  rods  long 
in  the  outskirts  of  a town,  and  naturally  inquired 
what  it  was  intended  for.  “A  canal,”  was  the 
answer.  “Why  wasn’t  it  finished?”  “No  need  of 
it.  By  the  time  they  had  dug  this  far  the  company 
was  consolidated  with  a railroad,  the  subscriptions 
were  all  in,  the  stockholders  frozen  out,  and  the 
leading  men  ready  for  a year’s  pleasure  trip  to 
Europe.” 


228 


THE  WOELHS 


Sound  Lcegal  flDviGs. 

A citizen  who  was  bitten  by  a dog  wrote  to  bis 
lawyer,  asking  what  to  do  about  it.  The  lawyer 
was  a bit  puzzled,  but  wrote  back : “Demand  sat- 
isfaction of  the  animal,  and,  if  he  will  not  give  it, 
sue  him  for  damages  for  mayhem.  If  he  is  a gen- 
tleman, however,  he  wdll  settle,  and  you  will  have 
no  further  trouble,  save,  possibly,  hydrophobia. 
This  is  the  best  way  out.” 


fflADE  A gl^OEUT. 

A man  afflicted  with  deafness  took  a prescription 
to  a Topeka  druggist,  who  filled  it  with  care  and  in 
the  latest  style.  The  deaf  man  asked  the  price, 
when  the  following  talk  occurred : 

Druggist  (leaning  on  the  counter  and  smihng  in 
a won’t-you-pay-up  sort  of  a manner) — “The  price 
is  seventy-five  cents.” 

Deaf  Customer — “Five  cents?  Here  it  is.” 

Druggist  (in  alouder  voice)— “Seventy-five  cents, 
please.” 

Deaf  Customer — “Well,  there’s  your  five  cents.” 

Druggist  (in  a very  loud  voice  and  a very  firm 
manner) — “I  said  seventy cents.” 

Deaf  Customer  (getting  angry) — “Well,  what 
more  do  you  want?  I just  gave  you  your  five 
cents.” 


MADE  A PROFIT 


P.  228 


Cf  T'iE 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


229 


Druggist  {sotto  voce) — ‘‘Well,  go  to  thunder  with 
your  medicine;  I made  three  cents,  any  way.” 


fiGGOMMODATING  I?I^ISONEI^. 

The  morning  of  the  execution  the  Superintend- 
ent of  the  prison  asks  the  condemned  what  he 
will  have  for  breakfast,  when  it  is  the  custom  to 
give  the  unfortunate  whatever  he  desires. 

“Well,”  said  the  latter,  “you  may  get  me  some 
peaches.” 

“Peaches ! Why,  this  is  not  the  season  for  them. 
They  are  not  ripe  yet.” 

“0,  well,  that  makes  fft)v^di:fcrence ! ” he  replied, 
“I  can  wait  for  them. '\~Frencli,,  Paper. 


Squelghing  an  “Obsti^ugjpoi^.” 

A good  instance  of  the  execution  which  he  some- 
times effected  with  a story,  occurred  in  the  legisla- 
ture. There  was  a troublesome  member  from 
Wabash  county,  who  gloried  particularly  in  being 
a “strict  constructionist.”  He  found  something 
“unconstitutional”  in  every  measure  that  was 
brought  forward  for  discussion.  He  was  a member 
of  the  Judiciary  Committee,  and  was  very  apt,  after 
giving  every  measure  a heavy  pounding,  to  advo- 
cate its  reference  to  this  committee.  No  amount 


230 


THE  WORLDS S 


of  sober  argument  could  floor  the  member  from 
Wabash.  At  last  he  came  to  be  considered  a man 
to  be  silenced,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  was  resorted  to  for 
an  expedient  by  which  this  object  might  be  accom- 
plished. He  soon  afterwards  honored  the  draft 
thus  made  upon  him. 

A measure  was  brought  forward  in  which  Mr. 
Lincoln’s  constituents  were  interested,  when  the 
member  from  Wabash  rose  and  discharged  all  his 
batteries  upon  its  unconstitutional  points.  Mr. 
Lincoln  then  took  the  floor,  and,  with  the  quizzical 
expression  of  features  which  he  could  assume  at 
will,  and  a mirthful  twinkle  in  his  gray  eyes,  said : 
“Mr.  Speaker,  the  attack  of  the  member  from 
Wabash  on  the  constitutionality  of  this  measure, 
reminds  me  of  an  old  friend  of  mine.  He’s  a pe- 
culiar looking  old  fellow,  with  shaggy,  overhanging 
eyebrows,  and  a pair  of  spectacles  under  them. 
(Everybody  turned  ta  the  member  from  Wabash, 
and  recognized  a personal  description.)  One  morn- 
ing just  after  the  old  man  got  up,  he  imagined,  on 
looking  out  of  his  door,  that  he  saw  rather  a hvely 
squirrel  on  a tree  near  his  house.  So  he  took  down 
his  rifle  and  flred  at  the  squirrel,  but  the  squirrel 
paid  no  attention  to  the  shot.  He  loaded  and  fired 
again,  and  again,  until,  at  the  thirteenth  shot,  he 
set  down  his  gun  impatiently,  and  said  to  his  boy, 
who  was  looking  on : 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


231 


“ ‘Boy,  there’s  something  wrong  about  this  rifle.’ 

“ ‘Kifle’s  all  right,  I know  ’tis,’  responded  the 
boy,  ’but  where’s  your  squirrel?” 

“ ‘Don’t  you  see  him,  humped  up  about  half  way 
up  the  tree?’  inquired  the  old  man,  peering  over 
his  spectacles,  and  getting  mystified. 

“ ‘No  I don’t,’  responded  the  boy;  and  then  turn- 
ing and  looking  into  his  father’s  face,  he  exclaimed, 
‘I  see  your  squirrel!  You’ve  been  firing  at  a louse 
on  your  eyebrow!’  ” 

The  story  needed  neither  application  nor  ex- 
planation. The  House  was  in  convulsions  of 
laughter;  Mr  Lincoln’s  skill  in  telling  a story  was 
not  inferior  to  his  appreciation  of  its  points  and  his 
power  of  adapting  them  to  the  case  in  hand.  It 
killed  ofl  the  member  from  Wabash,  who  was  very 
careful  afterwards  not  to  provoke  any  allusion  to 
his  “eyebrows!” 


Flashes. 

Minister  (dining  with  the  family) — My  young 
friend,  you  must  come  one  of  these  days  and  spend 
an  afternoon  with  my  little  boys. 

Little  Johnny  (delighted) — And  can  I see  the 
skeleton,  too? 

Minister — Skeleton!  Why,  what  do  you  mean? 

Little  Johnny  (paralyzing  the  whole  company) — 
Oh,  I heard  ma  say  to  pa  that  she  didn’t  know 


232 


THE  WORLDS S 


what  she’d  do  if  she  had  such  an  uglj^  skeleton  in 
her  closet  as  you  have ! 

The  story  is  told  that  a distinguished  prelate  of 
the  Church  of  England,  on  accepting  a country 
benefice,  urged  a friend  to  make  him  a visit  as  soon 
as  he  got  settled,  remarking  in  perfect  good  faith : 
“I  have  a nice  little  green  field  attached  to  the  rec- 
tory. I mean  to  keep  a couple  of  sheep,  and  we 
shall  have  mutton  kidneys  fresh  every  morning  for 
breakfast.” 

“You  attend  Sunday  school,  do  you?”  inquired 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  of  Nellie.  “Then  you  must 
know  a good  deal  about  the  bible.  Now  tell  us 
something  nice  that’s  in  the  bible  here,  can  you?” 

“Yeth  thir.  Sis  hath  some  dried  leaves  in  it,  a 
pieth  of  Aunt  Jane’s  wedding-cake,  a pieth  of  my 
dreth  when  I was  a baby,  thome  hair,  and  Sis’  fel- 
low’s picture.” 

“Who.giveth  this  woman  away?”  asked  the 
clergyman  in  a wedding  service. 

“I  could,”  came  the  voice  of  a young  man  from 
the  gallery,  “but  I’d  never  be  so  mean.” 

A Eulton  County  (111.)  citizen  was  induced  to 
vote  at  a recent  election  by  the  gift  of  10  cents' 
worth  of  tobacco  and  five  pies. 


WHAT  THEIR  BIBLE  CONTAINED. 


P.  232. 


('•(-  I'Kf 

U.-vn;...,  ir  uf  (ll:  "'•A  . 


4 


•j 


WIT  AND  WlT8, 


233 


Maj.  Bell  of  the  Los  Angeles  (Cal.)  Porcupine, 
has  had  the  misfortune  to  he  fined  $700  for  con- 
tempt of  court — suggesting,  if  not  showing,  that 
the  editor  of  the  Porcupine  would  best  have  held 
his  quills  to  his  editorial  work. 

Husband  (impatiently  to  wife) — “I  told  you  I 
only  wanted  half  a cup  of  tea,  and,  as  usual,  you’ve 
filled  it  to  the  top.  Don’t  you  know  what  half 
full  is?” 

Mother-in-law  (grimly) — “She  ought  to  by  this 
time.” 

Mamma  (house-huntif^g ‘ forHhe  season) — “It’s  a 
good  house  for  a dance,  Emily!”  -j 

Emily — “The  rooms  are  rather  small,  aren’t 
they?” 

Mamma  (who  knows  how  matches  are  made) — 
“Yes,  but  what  a capital  staircase!” — Punch. 

The  Indian  who  cut  the  top  from  his  blanket 
and  stitched  it  to  the  bottom,  in  order  to  make  it 
longer,  found  when  he  had  completed  the  job  that 
he  had  lost  only  the  seam  in  length. 

Paternal  advice  of  Brother  Gardner  to  a member 
of  the  Lime-Kiln  Club  setting  out  on.  his  travels : 

“1.  De  kivered  kyars  won’t  git  dar  any  sooner 
by  puttin’  yer  head  outer  de  winder. 


234 


THE  WORTHS 


2.  De  three-keerd  monte  man  may  look  as 
pious  as  de  real  church  deakun. 

3.  Pomposity  am  a pumpkin  wid  holler  insides. 

4.  Keep  yer  money  \Yhar  ye  can’t  lend  it  wid- 
out  pulling  off  yer  hutes.” — Detroit  Free  Press. 

Petroleum  is  the  topic  of  the  office,  drawing- 
room, and  workshop,  and  a great  part  of  our  people 
think  only  of  oil,  talk  oil,  and  dream  oil.  Miss 
Jennie  Smith,  the  railroad  evangelist,  who  has  been 
laboring  here,  when  leaving  the  other  day,  ap- 
proached at  the  train  Capt.  V , a well  known 

operator  who  was  standing  on  the  platform,  took 
him  by  the  hand,  as  is  her  custom,  and  asked: 
“Brother,  how  are  you?  Are  you  on  the  rock  or 
iand?” 

The  Captain  absent-mindedly  but  excitedly,  re- 
plied: “We  are  two  hits  in  the  sand  and  gushing 
like  blazes.” 


©HE  SUDGE  AND  IPHB  Dl^UNI^EN  ©OAGHMAN. 

Attorney- General  Bates  was  once  remonstrating 
with  President  Lincoln  against  the  appointment  of 
a judicial  position  of  considerable  importance  of  a 
western  man,  who  though  on  the  “bench,”  was  of 
indifferent  reputation  as  a lawyer. 

“Well  now.  Judge,”  returned  Mr.  Lincoln,  “I 
think  you  are  rather  too  hard  on . Besides  that,  I 


WIT  AND  WIT 8. 


235 


must  tell  you,  he  did  me  a good  turn  long  ago. 
When  I took  to  the  law,  I was  walking  to  court 
one  morning,  with  some  ten  or  twelve  miles  of  bad 

road  before  me,  when overtook  me  in  his 

wagon. 

‘Hallo,  Lincoln!’  said  he;  ‘going  to  the  court- 
house? Come  in  and  I will  give  you  a seat.’ 

“Well,  I got  in,  and went  on  reading  his 

papers.  Presently  the  wagon  struck  a stump,  on 
one  side  of  the  road;  then  it  hopped  oh  to  the 
other.  I looked  out  and  saw  the  driver  was  jerk- 
ing from  side  to  side  in  his  seat : so  said  I,  ‘Judge, 
I think  your  coachman  has  been  taking  a drop  too 
much  this  morning.’ 

“Well,  I declare,  Lincoln,’  said  he,  ‘I  should  not 
much  wonder  if  you  are  right,  for  he  has  nearly 
upset  me  half-a-dozen  times  since  starting.  So, 
putting  his  head  out  of  the  window,  he  shouted, 
‘Why  you  infernal  scoundrel^  you  are  drunl 

“Upon  which  pulling  up  his  horses  and 
turning  round  with  great  gravity,  the  coachman 
said  ‘Be  dad!  but  that’s  the  riylitful  decision 
your  honor  has  given,  for  the  last  twelve  monthsV  ” 

PJADIAIPIONS. 

A couple  of  visitors  to  the  House  gallery  were 
trying  to  pick  out  their  congressman  on  the  floor. 


236 


THE  WORTHS 


‘‘I  can’t  distinguish  him,”  said  one,  after  a hopeless 
visual  observationfT^.'if^lDf  course  not,”  was  the 
honest  reply,  ‘‘he  can’t  even  -distinguish  himself.” 

Some  Germans  in  the  Fatherland  have  issued  an 
appeal  to  Germans  beyond  the  seas  for  a Universal 
German  Congress,  to  he  held  in  Berlin,  Sept.  13, 
14,  15,  and  16  next,  at  which  the  promotion  of  the 
intellectual  and  economical  interests  of  the  nation 
are  to  be  discussed.  Applications  for  attendance 
and  for  more  ample  information  may  he  addressed 
to  the  Bureau  of  the  Society  for  German  Coloniza- 
tion. 

A Kondout  (N.  Y.)  man  tells  this  yarn:  He 
says  that  he  bought  some  green  dye,  intending  to 
color  some  eggs  for  his  children  for  Easter,  and 
laid  the  package  on  a bench  in  the  back  yard  and 
forgot  about  it.  When  he  thought  to  get  it  he  dis- 
covered that  his  hens  had  eaten  most  of  the  dye- 
stuff. The  next  day  he  found  three  bright-green 
eggs  in  the  nests ; the  next  day  three  more  a shade 
or  two  lighter;  the  third,  the  eggs  had  just  the 
slightest  • tinge  of  green ; the ' fourth  day  they  re- 
sumed their  normal  appearance. 

Gray — And  you  claim  that  Black  is  a total  ab- 
stainer. 

Green — Certainly  he  is. 


tIBRARIf 

OF  THE 

U TVER:: .TV  CF  tlU'"*’''. 


'‘THAT  LYING  OLD  THING  ! ” 


P.  237. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


237 


Gray — Come,  now,  doesn’t  ^e  keep  a drop  in  the 
house  on  the  sly? 

Green — No,  sir,  not  a drop.  He  couldn’t  do  it 
without  my  knowledge. 

Gray — Why  not? 

Green — Because  my  hired  man  is  courting  his 
hired  girl,  and  neither  of  our  families  can  keep  the 
smallest  secret  from  the  other. — Boston  Courier. 

A Montana  woman  had  a neighbor  woman  ar- 
rested on  charge  of  slander.  The  trial  took  place 
before  a Justice  of  the  Peace.  The  slandered  wom- 
an being  duly  sworn  took  the  witness-stand  and 
began:  “I’ll  tell  ye  in  derned  few  words  how  it 
was,  Jedge.  That  lyin’  old  thing  thar  gave  it  out 
cold  that  I wa’n’t  no  lady^  be  gosh!  An’  if  she  or 
any  other  old  slouch  thinks  I’m  a goin’  to  lay  low  an’ 
swaller  talk  of  that  kind  they’re  badly  left.  I’m  a 
lady  from  ’way  back,  Jedge,  and  I’ve  got  the 
papers  fer  it  1 And  I kin  jist  everlastingly  lick  the 

“Verdict  for  the  defendant!”  roared  the  Judge. 
— Detroit  Free  Press. 

The  average  Congressional  statesman  is  looking 
for  a tariff'  policy  that  will  return  him  to  Congress. 

A facetious  reader  of  the  Journal  calls  attention 
to  the  fact  that  Abraham  Lincoln  made  wool  free 


238 


THE  WORTHS 


when  he  issued  the  emancipation  proclamation. 

Mexican  pulque  is  a beer  made  from  the  juice  of 
a cactus  and  is  sold  for  one  cent  a glass.  It  looks 
bitter,  smell  loud,  and  tastes  yellow,  but  it  gets 
there,  all  the  same. 

A young  man  who  is  learning  to  ride  a bicycle 
sent  money  to  a New  York  publisher  the  other  day 
for  a book  entitled  “How  to  Get  On.”  When  the 
work  arrived  he  was  disgusted  to  find  that  it  con- 
tained no  instructions  for  mounting  the  wheel. — 
Norvistoivn  Herald. 

“Hello,”  said  a South  End  youngster  to  his 
chum.  “Your  folks  going  to  move?  Ours  is.” 

“So’s  ours.  Had  says  he  won’t  live  in  the  old 
shell  any  longer.” 

“Mine  neither.  Where  are  you  going  to  move?” 

“Into  your  house.  Where  are  you?” 

“Into  your  house.” 

“Johnny,”  said  Mr.  McSwilhgen  to  his  youth- 
ful son  and  heir  last  night,  “I  am  sorry  to  hear  from 
your  mother  that  you  have  been  a very  bad  hoy.” 

Johnny  hung  his  head  and  his. father  continued: 
“You  got  into  a fight  with  Jimmy  Jones  ‘and  he 
tore  your  coat  and  blacked  your  eye.” 

“Well,  I guess  I nearly  broke  his  nose.  So  he 
didn’t  have  all  the  fun,”  protested  Johnny. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


239 


must  punish  you  for  such  conduct,”  contin- 
ued Mr.  McSwilligen,  as  he  took  a long  strap  down 
from  the  nail. 

“But,  father,”  said  Johnny,  “before  you  strike 
let’s  see  if  we  can’t  arbitrate  this  difficulty.”  John- 
ny was  let  off  that  time.  ' ^ 


LcINGOLN’S  op  a y^OUNG  liAWYEf?  AS 

F)b  ©old  m TO  Gbnbi^al  Gai^pibld. 

General  Garfield,  of  Ohio,  received  from  the 
President  the  account  of  the  capture  of  Norfolk 
with  the  following  preface:  “By  the  way,  Gar- 
field,” said  Mr.  Lincoln,  “y^^^  never  heard,  did  you, 
that  Chase,  Stanton,  and  I,  had  a campaign  of  our 
own?  We  went  down  to  Fortress  Monroe  in 
Chase’s  revenue  cutter,  and  consulted  with  Ad- 
miral Goldshorough  as  to  the  feasibility  of  taking 
Norfolk  by  landing  on  the  north  shore  and  making 
a march  of  eight  miles.  The  Admiral  said,  very 
positively,  there  was  no  landing  on  that  shore,  and 
we  should  have  to  double  the  cape  and  approach 
the  place  from  the  south  side,  which  would  he  a 
long  and  difficult  journey,  I thereupon  asked  him 
if  he  had  ever  tried  to  find  a landing,  and  he  re- 
plied that  he  had  not. 

“ ‘Now,’  said  I,  ‘Admiral,  that  reminds  me  of  a 
chap  out  West  Avho  had  studied  law,  hut  had  never 


no 


THE  WORLD^S 


tried  a case.  Being  sued,  and  not  having  confi- 
dence in  liis  ability  to  manage  liis  own  case,  he 
employed  a fellow-lawyer  to  manage  it  for  him. 
He  had  only  a confused  idea  of  the  meaning  of  law 
terms,  hut  vas  anxious  to  make  a display  of  learn- 
ing, and  on  the  trial  constantly  made  suggestions 
to  his  lawyer,  who  paid  no  attention  to  him.  At 
last,  fearing  that  his  lawyer  was  not  handling  the 
opposing  counsel  very  well,  he  lost  all  patience, 
and,  springing  to  his  feet,  cried  out : “Why  don’t 
you  go  at  him  with  a cajnas^  or  a siirrehidter ^ or 
something,  and  not  stand  there  like  a confounded 
old  nudum- pactiiinV 


©HE  Umpii^e  I?i^obably  Oppigiated. 

“We  had  a diamond  wedding  down  at  our  house 
the  other  day,”  said  Mrs.  Skuse,  the  boarding- 
house keeper,  to  her  friend,  Mrs.  Magufiin. 

“Indeed!  You  don’t  say?  It  must  have  been 
interesting.” 

. “Yes,  it  was.  The  first-base  man’s  sister  got 
married  to  the  short-stop.” 


fl  ©ALiPOP^NiA  Dog. 

A Truckee  (Cal.)  dog  shuts  the  door  after  him 
when  he  enters  adiouse.  This  habit  served  hand- 
somel}'  when  he  was  chased  by  a mad  dog  one  day. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


241 


He  was  in  his  master’s  store  and  np  at  the  window 
looking  at  the  mad  dog  before  the  latter  had  re- 
covered from  his  surprise  at  having  the  door 
slammed  in  his  face. 


BI^IEP  (gOMIGAIiPPIBS. 

Goes  without  saying — a deaf  and  dumb  man. 

A gushing  correspondent  says  of  a literary  celeb- 
rity that  “his  conversation  is  full  of  light.”  Poor 
fellow!  he  must  be  lantern-jawed. 

Mr.  James  McNeill  Whistler  calls  his  lectures 
“Ten  o’clocks,”  because  he  delivers  them  at  that 
hour.  Ah,  yes!  We’ve  always  understood  that 
Mr.  Whistler  wasn’t  over  be  nign. 

It  was  recently  decided  in  a Cincinnati  debating 
society  that  a man  is  not  necessarily  an  Irishman 
because  he  wears  a cork  leg. 

The  Indians  originally  owned  America,  and  would 
still  own  it  if  they  had  gone  into  the  liquor  business 
when  the  first  white  men  arrived  here. 

An  exchange  has  the  headhne : “Nigh  Time  to 
Eeform.”  Not  much.  Day  time  for  reform  and 
night  time  for  fun. 


16 


242 


THE  WORTHS 


A 6-year-old  Pittsburg  child,  being  asked, 
“What  is  a rope?”  replied,  “A  fat  string.” 

Berseker  (just  from  the  city) — “Going  to  make 
maple  sugar,  eh?  Well,  by  jolly,  I’m  just  in  time^ 
Er — may  I go  into  the  woods  and  see  how  it  is 
done?” 

Aunt — “Yes,  I guess  so.” 

Berseker — “When  do  you  begin  at  it?” 

Aunt— “Just  as  soon  as  your  uncle  gets  back  from 
the  village  with  the  glucose.” 

Wit  that  is  quick  is  not  always  the  best : yet,  if 
a man  is  on  the  track  in  front  of  an  aproaching 
train  it  is  best  to  know  what  to  do  quick,  as  there 
is  no  time  to  consult  guide  books. 

Ponsonby — “I  saw  you  playing  billiards  last 
night  with  Litewaite.  How  did  you  come  out?” 

Be  Guy — “Lost  $1,200  on  eight  games.” 

“Merciful  smoke,  what  a loss!” 

“I  should  say  so : and  the  worst  of  it  was  $2  of 
it  was  cash.” 

A Pennsylvanian  has  patented  a milking  ma- 
chine. The  best  milking  machine  is  a calf. 
Inventors  should  turn  their  attention  to  a patent 
for  getting  the  milk  out  of  the  calf. 

When  some  politicians  are  weighed  they  are  fond 
wanting — every  office  in  which  there  is  a vacancy. 


wrr  AND  WITS, 


24S 


Sunday-School  teacher — Who  loves  everybody, 
Johnny? 

Johnny — My  pa  does,  cos  he  is  runnin’  for 
office. 

England’s  puzzle  and  Pat’s  charade:  ^‘You 
rouse  my  first  by  asking  rent  for  my  second,  and 
my  whole  is  my  country” — Ire-land. 


IOAN^FED  to  It  a Sui^e  ©hing. 

‘‘I  am  a lawyer’s  daughter,  you  know,  George, 
dear,”  she  said,  after  George  had  proposed  and  had 
been  accepted,  “and  you  wouldn’t  think  it  strange 
if  I were  to  ask  you  to  sign  a little  paper  to  the 
effect  that  we  are  engaged,  would  you?” 

George  was  too  happy  to  think  anything  strange 
just  then,  and  he  signed  the  paper  with  a tremb- 
ling hand  and  bursting  heart. 

Then  she  laid  her  ear  against  his  middle  vest 
button  and  they  were  very,  very  happy. 

“Tell  me,  darling,”  said  Goorge,  after  a long, 
delicious  silence,  “why  did  you  want  me  to  sign 
that  paper?  Do  you  not  respose  implicit  confi- 
dence in  my  love  for  you?” 

“Ah,  yes,”  she  sighed  with  infinite  content,  “in- 
deed I do;  but,  George,  dear,  I have  been  fooled  so 
many  times.” — Life, 


244 


THE  WORTHS 


She  Inti^oduged  r^Ei^SELP* 

The  story  is  told  of  a prominent  lady  who  is 
sometimes  just  a little  overbearing  to  those  she 
considers  her  inferiors.  She  lives  in  a fashionable 
West-End  locality,  and  seldom  takes  the  street-cars. 
But  she  did  the  other  day.  On  approaching  the 
street  near  her  house  she  said  to  the  conductor : 

“Stop  on  this  side  of  the  street.” 

The  conductor  rang  the  bell,  but  it  was  too  late, 
and  the  car  kept  on  to  the  opposite  corner.  She 
was  very  indignant,  and  put  her  indignation  into 
warm  words,  winding  up  with : 

“I’m  Mrs.  Blank.” 

The  conductor,  nothing  abashed,  replied: 

“Glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Blank. 
I’m  Tom  Jackson.” 


fiN  flMUSING  SJPOF^Y  (sOI^NGEI^NING  ©HOMP- 

soN  (Campbell. 

Among  the  numerous  visitors  on  one  of  the 
President’s  reception  days,  were  a party  of  Con- 
gressmen, among  whom  was  the  Hon.  Thomas 
Shannon,  of  California.  Soon  after  the  customary 
greeting,  Mr.  Shannon  said: 

“Mr.  President,  I met  an  old  friend  of  yours  in 
California  last  summer,  Thompson  Campbell,  who 
had  a good  deal  to  say  of  your  Springfield  life.” 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


245 


“Ah!”  returned  Mr.  Lincoln,  “I  am  glad  to  hear 
of  him.  Campbell  used  to  be  a dry  fellow,”  he 
continued.  “For  a time  he  was  Secretary  of  State. 
One  day,  during  the  legislative  vacation,  a meek, 
cadaverous-looking  man,  with  a white  neck-cloth, 
introduced  himself  to  him  at  his  office,  and,  stating 
that  he  had  been  informed  that  Mr.  C.  had  the 
letting  of  the  Assembly  Chamber,  said  that  he 
wished  to  secure  it,  if  possible,  for  a course  of  lec- 
tures he  desired  to  deliver  in  Springfield. 

“ ‘May  I ask,’  said  the  Secretary,  ‘what  is  to  be 
the  subject  of  your  lectures?’ 

“ ‘Certainly,’  was  the  reply,  with  a very  solemn 
expression  of  countenance.  ‘The  course  I wish  to 
deliver,  is  on  the  Second  Coming  of  our  Lord.’ 

“ ‘It  is  of  no  use,’  said  C.  ‘If  you  will  take  my 
advice,  you  will  not  waste  your  time  in  this  city. 
It  is  my  private  opinion  that  if  the  Lord  has  been 
in  Springfield  07icej  He  will  not  come  the  second 
time  ” 


JPO  ©I^OUBIiB  POI^  ©HBM. 

A circus  was  expected  at  the  little  village  of 

C , and  the  inhabitants  were  as  wildly  excited 

over  the  event  as  the  inhabitants  of  small  towns 
usually  are.  The  colored  population  were  particu- 
larly enthusiastic,  but  their  preacher,  the  Eev. 


246 


THE  WORTHS 


Pete  Jefferson,  was  loud  in  his  exhortations  against 
it.  He  went  so  far  as  to  threaten  to  expel  any  of 
his  congregation  who  dared  to  spend  their  money 
in  so  sinful  a way.  Strange  to  relate,  when  the 
eventful  night  arrived  the  most  conspicuous  person 
there  was  the  violent  parson. 

“Why,  Uncle  Pete,  what  are  you  doing  here?” 
inquired  one  of  his  white  friends. 

“Law!  Marse  Henry,  I hates  it  mightily,  sah. 
But  I’s  de  shepherd,  and  I’s  obliged  to  look  arter 
my  flock.  I got  my  eye  on  ebery  last  one  oh  dose 
onchristian,  pop-eyed  niggers,  and  you  see  if  I 
don’t  make  ’em  smell  fire  and  brimstone  on  Sun- 
day”. 


Stuffing  a Fr^sNCHMAN. 

On  my  return  from  a visit  to  the  Marquis  of 
Mores- Vallombrosa — whose  tribulations  with  the 
cowboys  were  recently  narrated  by  the  Figaro — I 
had  one  of  these  “howlers  of  the  prairies”  for  my 
fcravehng  companion  over  the  Northern  Pacific — a 
superb  looking  fellow,  who  was  very  talkative,  un- 
like most  of  his  fellows.  The  cold  was  intense,  and 
the  travelers  were  trying  to  warm  themselves  as 
best  as  they  could  around  the  stove  in  the  centre 
of  the  car.  Conversation  naturally  turned  upon 
the  weather,  and  my  cowboy  began  to  tell  me  about 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


247 


a certain  atrocious  adventure  which  had  happened 
to  him  only  a few  days  before.  I give  it  as  he  re- 
lated it,  without  emendation  : 

‘‘I’d  gone  to  see  my  girl;  and  the  family  consisted 
of  the  angel  herself,  and  her  father,  mother,  two  little 
brothers,  and  the  Chinee.  About  9 o’clock  a snow- 
storm struck  the  log-house,  and  the  house  was 
soon  buried  out  of  sight  under  the  snow.  Couldn’t 
get  away.  Storm  got  worse  and  worse ; kept  grow- 
ing colder  all  the  time;  by  11  o’clock  the  mercury 
in  the  thermometer  froze.  I lay  down  before  the 
big  fireplace  with  the  girl  in  my  arms,  trying  to 
keep  her  warm.  At  1 o’clock  in  the  morning  we 
didn’t  have  anything  left  to  burn,  we’d  burnt  up 
the  chairs,  tables,  and  all  the  furniture.  All  at 
once  I saw  that  my  future  parents-in-law  were 
frozen  stiff.  What  could  I do?  I shoved  them 
both  into  the  fire ; and  that  kept  a lively  blaze  up 
until  4 a.  m.  Then  it  was  the  turn  of  the  two 
httle  brothers,  who  served  for  dog  irons  to  burn  the 
remains  of  their  parents  upon.” 

“And  your  girl?”  asked  a traveler. 

“0,  I kept  her  in  my  arms  as  long  as  I could; 
she  was  too  cold  and  too  frightened  to  bother  about 
her  parents ; besides,  they  had  been  keeping  her  from 
freezing.  But  the  cold,  unfortunately,  continued, 
and  when  everything  was  burned  up  I was  obliged  to 
shove  the  poor  darling  into  the  fire.  Lord  forgive 


248 


THE  WORTHS 


me ! But  she  burned  fine,  I just  tell  you — she  was 
so  nice  and  fat : and  she  kept  the  fire  going  until 
evening,  and  then  I was  able  to  get  back  home.” 

All  this  was  told  in  the  most  natural  way  in  the 
world — I might  almost  say,  without  any  show  of 
bragging.  The  travelers,  including  your  humble 
servant,  seemed,  however,  very  uncomfortable  at 
the  recital,  and  that  was  probably  why  none  of  them 
ventured  to  ask  what  had  become  of  the  Chinee. 
— Letter  in  Paris  Figaro. 


Down  with  the  ©yi^ants. 

“Yes,”  said  he  to  his  neighbor  across  the  fence, 
“the  laboring  men  are  in  the  right.  It  was  time 
for  them  to  rise  against  the  tyranny  of  capital. 
Down  with  all  tyrants,  I say ” 

“John  Henry!”  shrieked  a shrill  voice  from  the 
kitchen,  “are  you  going  to  hang  out  that  clothes- 
line and  split  that  wood  and  draw  that  water,  or 
shall  I have  to  come  out  to  you?” 

“Yes,  Mirandy,”he  answered  meekly,  “I’m going 
right  about  it.” 


She  ©oF^r^EGT  ©king  in  Bi^idal  Gloves. 

Bertie,  aged  9,  is  a great  admirer  of  athletic 
sports.  His  cousin  Lizzie,  being  about  to  enter 
the  matrimonial  estate,  a family  council  was  held 


DOWN  WITH  THE  TY RANTS ! 


P.  248. 


iff?n.4Rr 
OF  THE 
OF  auro! 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


249 


upon  the  bridal  toilet.  Everything  had  been  satis- 
factorily settled  except  the  gloves,  upon  which 
quite  a discussion  arose.  Bertie  finally  being  ap- 
pealed to  rather  astonished  the  meeting  by  his 
prompt  and  emphatic  response  : Get  boxing 

gloves!” 


(3eI^I^OLDIAN  ilOI^INGS. 

THE  SWEETEST  PLUM. 

In  all  the  wedding-cake,,  hope  is  the  sweetest  of 
the  plums. 

LOVE. 

Love’s  like  the  flies,  and,  drawing-room  or  gar- 
rets, goes  aU  over  the  hous^Ar-JJ 

THE  CLEAKEST  .OF '^ALL  LAWS.k* 

Self-defence  is  the  clearest  of  all  laws ; and  for 
this  reason — the  lawyers  didn’t  make  it. 

BODY  AND  MIND. 

His  body  is  weak,  but  his  mind  tremendous. 
Yes,  a sword — a Damascus  blade  in  a brown  paper 
scabbard. 

DAMP  SHEETS. 

To  think  that  two  or  three  yards  of  damp  flax 
should  so  knock  down  the  majesty  of  man ! 

PEKMANENTLY  ENLARGED. 

Some  years  ago  London  was  covered  with  an- 
nouncements of  the  permanent  enlargement  of  the 


250 


THE  WORTHS 


Morning  Herald.  One  day  Jerrold  called  at  the 
office,  and  on  seeing  the  portly  figure  of  Mr.  Rodin, 
the  publisher,  said,  “What,  Rodin,  you  too  seem 
to  he  permanently  enlarged!” 


(©ai^e-Banishbi^s. 

Everything  comes  to  him  who  waits.  The  farmer 
who  all  through  the  winter  has  been  wondering 
what  he  was  going  to  do  with  them  pesky  turnips 
now  finds  a ready  sale  for  them  to  the  dealer  in 
pure  grated  horseradish. 

A committee  is  discussing  the  abolition  of  Greek 
and  Ijatin  in  Harvard.  It  is  right  that  those  dead 
and  dangerous  languages  should  go,  provided  the 
study  of  ballet-dancing  is  not  made  compulsory. 

Now  that  the  country  has  about  celebrated  all 
its  centennial  anniversaries  it  will  have  leisure  to 
celebrate  a great  number  of  quarter-centennial  an- 
niversaries of  important  events  in  the  civil  war. 

“Waiter!  what’s  the  matter  with  this  fowl? 
When  I attempt  to  cut  it  my  knife  recoils  as  it 
would  from  a piece  of  India-rubber!” 

“Hat’s  spring  chicken,  boss.” 

There  is  nothing  in  the  game  of  base-ball  calcu- 
lated to  bring  the  blush  of  shame  to  the  cheek  of 
modesty,  unless  it  is  the  decisions  of  the  umpire. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


261 


There  are  four  hundred  known  ways  in  which  a 
horse  can  be  unsound,  and  yet  when  you  buy  0ne 
you  will  find  a way  not  yet  catalogued. 

Do  not  send  your  son  to  Yale  college.  Its  base- 
ball club  was  defeated  last  week. 


IlINGOLN’S  STOI^Y  op  Sl^EAiPNBSS. 

Mr.  Lincoln  remarked  to  his  friend:  ^‘Great  men 
have  various  estimates.  When  Daniel  Webster 
made  his  tour  through  the  West  years  ago,  he 
visited  Springfield  among  other  places,  where  great 
preparations  had  been  made  to  receive  him.  As" 
the  procession  was  going  through  the  town,  a bare- 
footed little  darkey  boy  pulled  the  sleeve  of  a man 
named  T.,  and  asked: 

‘‘  ‘What  the  folks  were  all  doing  down  the  street?’ 

“ ‘Why,  Jack,’  was  the  reply,  ‘the  biggest  man 
in  the  world  is  coming.’ 

“Now,  there  lived  in  Springfield  a man  by  the 
name  of  G. — a very  corpulent  man.  Jack  darted 
off  down  the  street,  but  presently  returned,  with  a 
very  disappointed  air. 

“ ‘Well,  did  you  see  him?’  required  T. 

“ ‘Yes,’  returned  Jack;  ‘but  laws, — he  ain’t  half 
fis  big  as  old  G.’  ” 


262 


THE  WORTHS 

elEF^I^OLiDIANA. 

A MOTTO.' 

Conscious  virtue  and  cold  mutton. 

WISHES. 

Wishes  at  least  are  the  easy  pleasures  of  the 
poor. 

gold’s  powek. 

He  who  has  guineas  for  his  subjects,  is  the  king 
of  men ! 

A MODEL  BEGGAR. 

Jerrold  was  showing  ofl  the  accomplishments  of 
a favorite  terrier. 

“Does  he  beg?”  asked  a visitor. 

“Beg!”  replied  Jerrold,  “ay,  like  a prince  of  the 
blood!” 

AN  attorney’s  last  HOPE. 

A certain  sharp  attorney  was  said  to  be  in  bad 
circumstances.  A friend  of  the  unfortunate  lawyer 
met  Jerrold,  and  said,  “Have  you  heard  about  poor 
E ? His  business  is  going  to  the  devil.” 

Jerrold  replied,  “That’s  all  right then  he  is 

sure  to  get  it  back  again.” 

THE  DINER-OUT  AT  HOME. 

A man  who  enjoyed  the  reputation  of  dining  out 
continually,  once,  late  in  the  evening,  joined  a 
party,  which  included  Jerrold.  The  diner-out 
threw  himself  into  a chair,  and  exclaimed  with  dis- 


IT  WAS  AN  EYE-TOOTH  THAT  BOTHERED  HIM. 


P-  254- 


lI'JRAWf 
“ GF  THE 
.-.VEU-TF  Of  ILLV 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


253 


gust,  “Tut!  I had  nothing  but  a mutton-chop 

for  dinner!” 

Jerrold  only  said,  “Ah!  I see,  you  dined  at 
home.” 


LxINGOLN’S  STOI^Y  op  (3a6I^  (sHASE. 

“In  my  early  days,  I knew  one  Jack  Chase,  who 
was  a lumberman  on  the  Illinois,  and,  when  steady 
and  sober,  the  best  raftsman  on  the  river.  It  was 
quite  a trick  twenty-five  years  ago  to  take  the  logs 
over  the  rapids,  but  he  was  skillful  with  a raft,  and 
always  kept  her  straight  in  the  channel.  Finally  a 
steamer  was  put  on,  and  Jack — he’s  dead  now, 
poor  fellow ! — was  made  of  hoi’-  He  always 

used  to  take  the  wheel  going  through  the  rapids. 
One  day,  when  the  boat  was  plunging  and  wallow- 
ing along  the  boiling  current,  and  Jack’s  utmost 
vigilance  was  being  exercised  to  keep  her  in  the 
narrow  channel,  a boy  pulled  his  coat-tail  and 
hailed  him  with : 

“‘Say,  Mister  Captain!  I wish  you  would  just 
stop  your  boat  a minute — I’ve  lost  my  apple  over- 
board!”’ 


YjE  Y}AD  fflADB  Ho  ffllS^PAI^B. 

“I  want  this  tooth  pulled.  I just  can’t  stand 
this  any  longer.” 


254  THE  WORTHS 

“But,  my  dear  sir,  I am  not  a dentist.” 

“What  in  thunder  are  you?” 

“I  am  an  oculist.  I attend  to  the  eyes,  not  the 
teeth.” 

“Well,  that’s  all  right.  Get  to  work.  This  is 
an  eye-tooth  that’s  bothering  Texas  Siftings. 


liOOI^ING  OUT  FOI^  BI^BAI^EI^S — f^OW  lilNGOLN 
ILLUSTI^ATBD  IT. 

In  a time  of  despondency,  some  visitors  were 
telling  President  Lincoln  of  the  “breakers”  so  often 
seen  ahead — “this  time  surely  coming.”  “That,” 
said  he,  “suggests  the  story  of  the  school-boy,  who 
never  could  pronounce  the  names  ‘Shadrach,’ 
‘Meshach,’  and  ‘Abedn,ego.’  He  had  been  repeat- 
edly whipped  for  it  without  effect.  Sometime 
afterwards  he  saw  the  names  in  the  regular  lesson 
for  the  day.  - Putting  his  finger  upon  the  place,  he 
turned  to  his  next  neighbor,  an  older  boy,  and 
whispered,  ‘Here  comes  those  ^'‘tormented  He- 
hreius''  again!'  ” 

Unpoi^tunate. 

De  Peyster — Do  you  smoke? 

New^  Valet— Xo,  sir. 

De  Peyster — I had  hoped  you  did.  I have  some 
new  cigarettes  and  I suspect  they  are  horrid. — 
Tid-Bits. 


UNFORTUNAT  E. 


P-  254- 


C**"  THE 

u.iivEii^ii  ir  CF  au:'ois 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


255 


©i^APS  Set  by  (^oi^bi^s. 

A chromo  is  known  by  the  tea  it  sells. 

Anglomaniacs  will  not  go  to  any  sea-shore  place 
this  summer  unless  there  aie  crests  on  the  waves. 

Six  thousand  men  in  the  New  York  sugar  refiner- 
ies have  struck  and  a great  sugar  loaf  is  the  result. 
— Washington  Critic. 

A second-lieutenant  in  the  French  army  is  paid 
$38  per  month.  It  is  believed  that  he  generallly 
boards  with  his  wife’s  folks. — Fhiladelvhia  Call. 

Every  prisoner  in  the  Massachusetts  reformatory 
in  Concord  has  had  his  allowance  of  tobacco  cut 
off.  It  is  to  be  inferred  that  fer^e^y  they  used  to 
bite  it  off.  / ■ • 

It  is  a very  certain  indication  of  an  approaching 
rainstorm  when  some  one  steals  your  umbrella  off 
the  hat  rack.  The  better  the  umbrella  was  the 
harder  the  storm  is  sure  to  be. 

Ben  Butler  is  keeping  mighty  quiet  these  days, 
but  there  is  a round-shouldered  rumor  afloat  that 
his  eye  is  searching  for  the  man  who  hasn’t  got  a 
theory  as  to  how  the  Oregon  was  sunk. — Tid-Bits. 

It  costs  so  much  to  bury  a congressman  appro- 
priately that  one  who  wants  to  convince  his 
constituents  that  he  is  really  in  favor  of  economy 


256 


TEE  WOELD^S 


should  resign  before  he  diie^.—Estelline  (D.  T.) 
Bell 

A Denver  physician  claims  to  be  able  to  cure 
drunkenness  by  inoculation.  It  is  not  explained 
whether  he  injects  an  ounce  of  stiychnine  into  the 
patient  or  locks  him  up  in  a whiskey-proof  safe  for 
the  remainder  of  his  life. — Norristoivn  Herald. 


Lceaying  the  RAr^M. 

“There’s  Jim,  that  boy  uv  mine,  that’s  away  to 
school,”  said  a Dakota  settler,  “I  al’ays  counted  on 
makin’  a farmer  uv  him  an’  havin’  him  work  the  old 
place  after  I wuz  gone,  but  I guess  I can’t.” 

“What  is  the  matter?” 

“Oh,  everything.  He  won’t  take  no  interest  in 
farm  work  and  I can’t  learn  him  nothing.  I don’t 
b’lieve  he  knows  which  side  to  milk  a cow  on, 
blamed  ef  I do!” 

“It  must  be  quite  a disappointment  for  you.” 

“Yes,  I should  say  it  wus.  But  I wuzn’t  hardly 
prepared  for  what  he  says  in  the  letter  I got  terday. 
Hanged  ef  I thought  he  w^ould  ever  go  quite  so  fur 
as  he  has  and  jist  drift  right  away  from  everything 
roorak,  as  ye  might  say.” 

“What  has  he  done?” 

“Why,  durned  ef  he  don’t  write  and  say  that  he 
has  decided  to  quit  college  and  accept  a position  as 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


257 


edeter  uv  an  angricult’ral  paper.  Jist  think  uv  a 
farmer’s  son  coming  to  lline  {D.  T.) 


Bell 


I7BADING  f^iM  Off. 

^‘Mr.  Featherly,”  said  Bobby  at  the  dinner  table, 
‘‘what’s  an  average?” 

“An  average?” 

“Yes.  Pa  says  you  come  to  see  sister  twice  a 
week  on  an  average.” 

Featherly  was  very  much  amused.  After  ex- 
plaining to  Bobby  the  meaning  of  the  word,  he 
said: 

“I  suppose  you  thought  it  was  some  kind  of  a 
carriage,  Bobby?” 

“I  thought  perhaps  it  might  be  a bicycle,  but  I 
knew  it  couldn’t  be  a carriage,  because  ma  says 
you’re  too  mean  to  hire ” 

“Bobby,”  interrupted  his  mother,  “will  you  have 
another  piece  of  pie?” 


CQadb  l7iM  Sad  to  ©hini^  of  It. 

Speaking  of  clergymen  reminds  me  of  an  incident 
which  happened  in  one  of  the  divinity  schools  of 
this  state.  One  of  the  worthy  professors,  a doctor 
of  divinity,  had  invited  a number  of  the  students 

17 


258 


THE  WORTHS 


to  take  tea  with  him.  The  invitation  was  accepted 
and  a very  pleasant  evening  was  spent  with  the 
professor.  \Yhile  the  company  were  in  the  study 
discussing  various  subjects  the  mantel  clock  struck 
8.  Tlie  professor  looked  up  at  the  timepiece  and 
said,  as  though  reflecting  on  the  uncertainty  of 
human  life:  “Eight  o’clock!  How  sad  it  is  to 
think  that  in  an  hour  the  brethren  will  all  be 
going.” 

The  students  thought  it  was  sad,  but  they  also 
concluded  that  they  would  have  to  increase  the 
sadness,  and  so  left  at  once. — Boston  Traveler. 


JjAWYBI^  WHO  gf^AGTIGBD  BY  GAI^. 

Among  the  friends  of  Grover  Cleveland  when  he 
was  practicing  law  in  this  city  was  another  attor- 
ney, hut  one  of  rather  different  stamp  than  the 
man  of  destiny.  The  friend  was  a bright  fellow, 
but  with  the  bump  of  laziness  abnormally  de- 
veloped. He  was  not  a well  read  lawyer,  and 
whenever  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  use  a deci- 
sion bearing  on  any  point  it  was  his  habit  to  lounge 
into  Cleveland’s  office  and  casually  worm  the  de- 
sired information  out  of  his  friend’s  mental  store- 
house. “Grover”  was  not  so  dull  as  not  to 
appreciate  the  fact  and  to  resent  the  sponging — 
not  so  much  because  the  process  was  worthy  of 


PRACTICE  ENTIRELY  BY  EAR. 


P 259. 


UCRARr 
OF  THE 

u.ifVEHi^iTy  OF  aLir'013 


i. 

1 

4 

i 

i 

J 


s 

1 

t 

i 

■'X 

'^1 

A 


J 

i 

1 

i 

A 

■'i 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


259 


that  name  as  because  he  wished  to  spur  his  friend 
on  to  more  energetic  work. 

One  day  the  friend  came  in  on  his  usual  errand, 
and  when  Cleveland  had  heard  the  preliminaries 
usual  to  the  pumping  process,  the  latter  lold  his 
questioner  that  he  had  given  him  all  the  informa- 
tion on  law  matters  that  he  was  going  to. 

“There  are  my  books,”  said  Cleveland,  “and 
you’re  quite  welcome  to  use  them.  You  can  read 
up  your  own  cases.” 

‘‘See  here,  Grover  Cleveland,”  said  the  friend, 
‘T  want  you  to  understand  that  I don’t  read  law. 
I practice  entirely  by  ear,  and  you  and  your  books 
can  go  to  thunder.” — BujfaW’Wcd})ress, 


fl  Boy’s  Gssay  on  Columbus. 

THEY  WEKE  DISCOVEEED  AT  LAST. 

The  following  story  comes  from  a school  in  the 
midlands : The  master  told  the  boys  of  the  third 
class  to  write  a short  essay  on  Columbus.  The 
following  was  sent  up  by  an  ambitious  essayist: 
“Clumbus  was  a man  who  could  make  an  egg  stand 
on  end  without  breaking  it.  The  king  of  Spain 
said  to  Clumbus:  ‘Can  you  discover  America?' 
‘Yes,’  said  Clumbus,  ‘if  you  will  give  me  a ship.’ 
So  he  had  a ship  and  sailed  over  the  sea  in  tlie  di- 
rection where  he  thought  America  ought  to  be 


260 


THE  WORTHS 


found.  The  sailors  quarreled  and  said  they  believed 
there  was  no  such  place.  But  after  many  days  the 
pilot  came  to  him  and  said:  ‘Clumbus,  I see  land.’ 
‘Then  that  is  America,’  said  Clumhus.  When  the 
ship  got  near  the  land  was  full  of  black  men. 
Clumhus  said:  Ts  this  America?’  ‘Yes,  it  is,’ 
said  they.  Then  he  said : ‘I  suppose  you  are  the 
niggers?’  ‘Yes,’  they  said,  ‘we  are.’  The  chief 
said:  ‘I  suppose  you  are  Clumhus.’  ‘You  are 
right,’  said  he.  Then  the  chief  turned  to  his  men 
and  said:  ‘There  is  no  help  for  it;  we  are  dis- 
covered at  last.’  ” — London  Standard. 


©OMMON  Sense. 

The  Hon.  Mr.  Hubbard,  of  Connecticut,  once 
called  upon  President  Lincoln  in  reference  to  a 
newly  invented  gun,  concerning  which  a committee 
had  been  appointed  to  make  a report. 

The  “report”  was  sent  for,  and  when  it  came  in 
was  found  to  be  of  the  most  voluminous  description. 
Mr.  Lincoln  glanced  at  it,  and  said : “I  should  want 
a new  lease  of  life  to  read  this  through!”  Throw- 
ing it  down  upon  the  table,  he  added : “Why  can’t 
a committee  of  this  kind  occasionally  exhibit  a 
grain  of  common  sense?  If  I send  a man  to  buy  a 
horse  for  me,  I expect  him  to  tell  me  his  points — 
not  how  many  hairs  there  are  in  his  tail. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


261 


I^E  gOULDN’iT  ©AJFGH  ShBM  STEALING. 

Two  months  ago  a democrat — an  old  Irish  vet- 
eran— was  appointed  to  he  a watchman  in  the 
treasury  department.  He  was  assigned  to  duty  at 
the  door  of  one  of  the  rooms  connected  with  the  re- 
demption division.  Every  one  noticed  the  alert- 
ness of  the  new  watchman  and  the  careful  scrutiny 
given  by  him  to  the  employes  as  they  passed  in  and 
out.  Last  week  he  took  a democratic  friend  aside 
and  told  him  that  the  republicans  could  not  be  as 
had  as  they  had  been  painted.  “I  have  been  here,” 
said  he,  “eight  weeks  and  watched  every  one  of  ’em 
like  a cat  watches  a mouse,  and  devil  a one  of  ’em 
has  been  caught  stealing  a thing.” 


Hot  IJoom  poi^  So  (Cany. 

A little  adventure  of  the  Duke  de  Braganza — 
the  husband  of  the  Princess  Amelia  of  Orleans. 

“I  was  traveling  in  Spain,”  said  the  duke,  “and 
had  reached  a miserable  little  village.  It  was 
1 a.  m.  Knocking  at  the  only  hostelry  in  the  place, 
a gruff  voice  called  out : 

“Who’s  there?” 

“ ‘ Don  Alphonse  -Eamire  - Juan  - Pedro-Carlos- 
Francisque-Dominique  de  Koxas  de  Braganza.’ 

“ ‘Drive  on,’  was  the  reply;  T can’t  accommo- 
date so  many  people.’  ” — From  the  French. 


262 


THE  WORTHS 


Y}E  05AS  I^ATHEF^  fiBSBNiP-ffllNDBD. 

A curious  case  of  absent-mindedness  is  that  of  a 
young  married  man  living  near  Jonesville,  Saratoga 
county,  who  one  morning  milked  his  cow,  set  the 
pail  of  milk  in  the  corner  of  the  stable,  and  carried 
the  stool  to  the  house.  This  he  did  twice  in  suc- 
cession. The  third  time  he  went  to  the  barn  to 
milk  he  took  a basket  of  roots  to  the  cow.  He 
emptied  out  the  roots  and  sat  down  and  commenced 
to  milk  the  cow  in  the  basket,  but  found  out  his 
mistake  in  time  to  save  enough  milk  for  breakfast 
coffee. 


F^E  ^ANJIIED  ^ssisjtange. 

“Hello,  I hear  you  have  changed  your  boarding 
house,”  remarked  Ebenezer  Jones  to  Zebedee 
Smith.  “What’s  the  matter?” 

“Why,  the  old  lady  insisted  on  using  baking 
powder  in  her  biscuits  instead  of  giant  powder.” 

“Giant  powder  in  biscuit!  Why,  you  might 
blow  the  top  of  yoim  head  off!” 

“0,  there’s  some  danger  of  that,  I know;  but 
think  of  the  advantage  of  having  something  in  the 
biscuits  to  assist  the  teeth  in  reducing  them  to 
digestible  fragments.” — Pittsburg  Chronicle- Tele- 
graph. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


263 


FJAI^E  and  UALiUABLB  I^eligs. 

An  esteemed  contemporary  remarks  that  the 
fossils  which  have  recently  been  dug  up  in  Georgia 
are  supposed  to  be  the  remains  of  Georgians  who 
beheved  in  paying  the  state  debt.  The  scarcity  of 
the  Virginia  article  in  ages  to  come  will  make  Vir- 
ginia remains  valuable. 


Eoi^  Sale. 

Councilman — This  slanderous  talk  about  corrup- 
tion in  councils  ought  to  be  stopped. 

Citizen — Nothing  in  it,  eh? 

‘‘No,  sir!  I happen  to  know  every  man  on  my 
committee  intimately,  and  I will  swear  that  there 
is  not  a single  one  who  is  for  sale.” 

“All  been  bought,  I suppose.” 


05ise,  and  Pungent  Sayings  op 

Bench  and  Bai^. 

The  writer  remembers  hearing  of  a gentleman 
who,  not  wishing  to  pay  the  legal  and  recognized 
fee  for  a consultation  with  his  lawyer,  devised  an 
expedient  whereby  he  expected  to  gain  the  infor- 
mation he  required  without  the  usual  cost.  He 
accordingly  invited  the  man  “learned  in  law”  to 
dine  at  his  house  on  a particular  evening  as  a 


264 


THE  WOBLD'^S 


friend  and  old  acquaintance.  The  lawyer  gladly 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  attended  at  the  house 
of  his  friend  and  client  promptly  to  the  minute. 
The  conversation  for  some  time  was  very  general 
and  agreeable,  and  the  shrewd  chent,  h}^  hinting 
and  suggesting,  at  last  drew  the  lawyer  out  into  a 
learned  and  explicit  dissertation  upon  the  subject 
the  host  wished  to  he  informed  upon.  The  chent, 
pleased,  satisfied,  and  smiling,  chuckled  in  his 
sleeve,  thinking  how  nicely  he  had  wormed  out  the 
advice  desired  and  pumped  his  lawyer  free  of  cost. 

The  feast  over,  the  lawj^er  departed,  equally 
pleased,  and,  both  being  satisfied,  all  went  merry 
as  a maiTiage-bell.  But  a few  days  afterward  the 
chent  received  a letter  from  his  lawyer  informing 
him  that  the  charge  for  professional  consultation 
and  advice  was  13s.  4d.,  and  would  he  “kindly 
attend  to  the  payment  of  same  at  his  earliest  con- 
venience and  oblige?”  The  client  was  wild — 
caught  in  his  own  trap;  hut,  being  determined  to 
outwit  the  lawyer  and  gain  liis  own  ends,  he  for- 
warded to  the  latter  a bill  for  “dinner,  wines,  and 
accessories  supj)lied,”  on  the  16th  inst.,  amounting 
to  thirteen  shillings  and  four  pence,  saying  that  if 
he  would  settle  the  inclosed  hill  he  should  only  he 
too  pleased  and  happy  to  settle  the  lawyer’s  httle 
bill.  The  lawyer  retorted  by  threatening  to  com- 
mence an  action  against  mine  host  for  selling  vines 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


265 


without  a license  unless  his  (the  lawyer’s)  bill  was 
immediately  paid.  Do  I need  to  say  that  the  law- 
yer was  victorious? 

When  I was  a boy  I heard  of  a lawyer  who  was 
called  up  in  the  middle  of  a cold  winter’s  night  to 
draw  up  the  will  of  an  old  farmer  who  lived  some 
three  miles  away,  and  who  was  dying.  The  mes- 
senger had  brought  a cart  to  convey  the  lawyer  to 
the  farm,  and  the  latter  in  due  time  arrived  at  his 
destination.  When  he  entered  the  house  he  was 
immediately  ushered  into  the  sick-room,  and  he 
then  requested  to  he  supplied  with  pen,  ink,  and 
paper.  There  were  none  in  the  house.  The  law- 
yer had  not  brought  any  himself,  and  what  was  he 
to  do?  Any  lead  pencil?  he  inquired.  No;  they 
had  none.  The  farmer  was  failing  fast,  though 
quite  conscious.  At  last  the  legal  gentleman  saw 
chalked  up  on  the  back  of  the  bed-room  door  col- 
umn upon  column  of  figures  in  chalk.  These  were 
milk  ‘^scores”  or  shots.”  He  immediately  asked 
for  a piece  of  chalk,  and  then,  kneeling  on  the  floor, 
he  wrote  out  concisely  upon  the  smooth  hearth- 
stone the  last  will  and  testament  of  the  dying  man. 
The  farmer  subsequently  died.  The  hearth-stone 
will  was  sent  to  the  principal  registry  in  London, 
with  special  aflidavit,  and  was  duly  proved,  the 
will  being  deposited  in  the  archives  of  the  registry. 


266 


THE  W0BLH8 

I may  mention  that  the  law  does  not  state  upon 
what  substance  or  with  what  instrument  a will 
must  be  written. 

There  w^as  once  a plain,  outspoken  Judge,  who, 
addressing  the  jury,  said:  “Gentlemen  of  the  jury, 
in  this  case  the  counsel  on  both  sides  are  unintelli- 
gible, the  witnesses  on  both  sides  are  incredible, 
and  the  plaintiff  and  defendant  are  both  such  bad 
characters  that  to  me  it  is  indifferent  which  way 
you  give  your  verdict.” 

It  w^as  once  reported  to  the  notorious  Judge  Jeff- 
ries that  the  Prince  of  Orange  was  on  the  point  of 
entering  into  the  country,  and  that  he  was  already 
preparing  a manifesto  as  to  his  inducements  and 
objects  in  so  doing.  “Pray,  my  Lord  Chief- Justice,” 
said  a gentleman  present,  “what  do  you  think  wdll 
be  the  heads  of  this  manifesto?”  “Mine  will  be 
one,”  he  grimly  replied. 

An  undoubted  alibi  was  some  time  ago  success- 
fully proven  in  an  American  court,  as  folio w^s : 

“And  you  say  you  are  innocent  of  the  charge  of 
stealing  this  rooster  from  Mr.  Jones?”  queried  the 
Judge. 

“Yes,  sir;  I am  innocent — as  innocent  as  a 
child.” 

“You  are  confident  you  did  not  steal  the  roostei 
from  Mr.  Jones?” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


^‘Yes,  sir;  and  I can  prove  it.” 

“How  can  you  prove  it?” 

“I  can  prove  that  I didn’t  steal  Mr.  Jones’  roos- 
ter, Judge,  because  I stole  two  hens  from  Mr. 
Graston  the  same  night,  and  Jones  lives  five  miles 
from  Graston’s.” 

. “The  proof  is  conclusive,”  said  the  Judge;  “dis- 
charge the  prisoner.” 

“Gentlemen  of  the  jury,”  said  an  Irish  barrister, 
“it  will  be  for  you  to  say  whether  this  defendant 
shall  be  allowed  to  come  into  court  with  unblush- 
ing footsteps,  with  the  cloak  of  hypocrisy  in  his 
mouth,  and  draw  three  bullocks  out  of  my  client’s 
pocket  with  impunity.” — Chambers'  Journal. 


funny  (iAPBI^S. 

A hght  beverage — moonshine  whisky. 

A kite  ought  to  be  made  of  fly-paper. — Philadel- 
pliia  • Call. 

A pressing  need  in  the  interest  of  economy  is  a 
bustle  that  can,  when  not  in  use,  be  converted  into 
a fire-escape. — Philadelphia  Herald. 

“It’s  a very  funny  thing,”  remarked  Bass  medi- 
tatively. “I  sat  by  the  river  all  day  with  bated 
breath  and  never  caught  a thing.” — The  Rambler . 


268 


THE  W0BLH8 


Ex- King  Theban  of  Burmah  is  said  to  have  been 
an  expert  poker-player.  This  seems  very  probable. 
A man  who  always  has  four  queens  ought  to  be  an 
expert  at  poker,  if  he  is  at  any  game. 

An  exchange  heads  a column  of  leaded  type: 
“Great  Excitement  in  Texas.”  We  can’t  imagine 
what  could  have  caused  it,  unless  the  authorities 
happened  to  catch  a murderer  or  something  of  that 
sort.  This  explanation,  however,  lacks  probabihty. 

The  landlord  of  a summer  hotel  is  to  have  an 
arctic  room  in  his  house.  All  the  walls  will  be 
covered  with  ice  scenes  and  the  ceiling  will  glisten 
with  the  effect  of  dependent  icicles.  Those  who  have 
seen  the  plan  say  that  it  reminds  one  of  a church 
social. — Boston  Transcript. 


iNTEI^r^UPTED. 

Maud  (outside) — Is  papa  in  there  with  you, 
George  ? 

George — Yes,  Miss  Maud,  would  you  like  to  see 
him? 

Maud — Please  ask  him  for  me — 

George — I w^as  on  the  point  of  doing  so  when 
you  interrupted. 

Papa — Bless  you,  my  children. — Tid-Bits. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


269 


LilNGOLiN’S  ©ONPAB  WITH  A ©OMMITTEB  ON 
''GI^ANT'S 

Just  previous  to  the  fall  of  Vicksburg,  a self- 
constituted  committee,  solicitous  for  the  morale 
of  our  armies,  took  it  upon  themselves  to  visit  the 
President  and  urge  the  removal  of  General  Grant. 

In  some  surprise  Mr.  Lincoln  inquired,  “For 
what  reason?” 

“Why,”  replied  the  spokesman,  “he  drinks  too 
much  whisky.” 

“Ah!”  rejoined  Mr.  Lincoln,  dropping  his  lower 
lip.  “By  the  way,  gentlemen,  can  either  of  you 
tell  me  where  General  Grant  procures  his  whisky  ? 
because,  if  I can  find  out,  I will  send  every  general 
in  the  field  a barrel  of  it F' 


Lots  op  Fun  with  a Foui^-In-F)and. 

“Do  you  dwive  youah  faw-in-hand  this  spwing, 
Pooler?” 

“Of  cawse  I do.  What’s  the  use  of  having  a 
faw-in-hand  if  you  don’t  dwive  it,  eh?” 

“I  don’t  know,  I’m  shuah.  What  the  dooce  is 
the  use  of  having  a faw-in-hand,  anyhow?” 

“Why,  my  deah  hoy,  it’s  lots  of  first-claws  fun 
having  the  girls  supplicate  you  faw  a wide,  and 
liaving  youah  photogwaph  taken  on  the  box,  don’t 
chew  know,  in  all  youah  spwing  toggawy.” 


m 


THE  WORTHS 


“But  isn’t  it  howible  dangawous?” 

“Not  a bit.  I only  wan  ovab  six  people  lawst 
yeab,  and  not  one  of  tbem  died  eitbaw.” 


OVBI^  IPHB  liABOI^  ©I^OUBLBS. 

Tramp  — You  see,  your  honor,  these  labor 
troubles 

Judge — Nonsense!  Labor  has  never  troubled 
you  any. 

Tramp — It  has  troubled  me  day  and  night  for 
years,  your  honor. 

Judge — At  night? 

Tramp — Yes.  I lay  awake  at  nights  studying 
bow  to  avoid  work. 

Judge — I’ll  spare  you  that  loss  of  sleep  for  ninety 
days. 


Y)E  Wouldn’t  F^blp  Doing  Im. 

A barber  who  had  called  to  shave  a gentleman 
who  had  just  died,  said,  as  be  began  operations: 
“Do  de  razor  hurt  yo’,  sab?”  Then  he  tried  to 
sell  bis  customer  a bottle  of  hair  elixir,  and  as  he 
removed  the  towel  at  the  finish  be  shouted  “Next  1” 
and  be  didn’t  mean  anything  wrong,  either.  Simply 
from  force  of  habit.  Dynamite  wouldn’t  get  some 
men  out  of  a rut. 


WORRIED  OVER  LABOR  TROUBLES. 


P.  270. 


tlBRARY 

OF  THE 

u.rivFR^ify  OF  (tu.'ois 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


271 

SUPPBI^ING  PI^OM  .IIIHB  ©HINBSB  BOYGO^JP. 

A tramp  recently  stopped  at  a house  near  Chico 
and  asked  for  something  to  eat.  ^^No,”  said  the 
proprietor,  “I  cannot  give  you  anything.  I have 
discharged  my  Chinaman  and  my  wife  has  to  do 
the  cooking.  I used  to  feed  tramps,  but  it  is  all  my 
wife  can  do  now  to  cook  for  the  family.” 

And  the  tramp  mournfully  moved  on,  wondering 
to  himself  whether  boycotting  was  a good  thing 
after  all. — Chico  {Cal.)  Enterprise. 


Op  ©oui^se  OuB. 

Well-Meaning  Citi^en-^Now,  Pat,  ^ou  see  what 
disgrace  these  low  politicians  have  brought  on  the 
city.  Why  don’t  you  cast  your  vote  for"  honest, 
respectable,  solid  men?  Now,  if  Mr.  Eutherford 
Stuyvesant  were  put  up  in  your  district  would  you 
vote  for  him? 

Patrick — Stoyversant,  soor?  Where  does  he 
kape  his  saloon? 


fflBI^BLY  A fflAriUPBI^  OP  BOSINBSS. 

Citizen — Just  think  of  the  deception  practiced 
every  day.  Why,  it’s  dreadful.  Now,  if  you  could 
make  $150  by  c.  lie,  your  sense  of  honor  wouldn’t 
allow  you  to  do  it,  would  it,  Washington  Jackson? 


2Y2 


THE  WORLD'' S 


Washington  Jackson  — Dunno,  boss — dunno. 
Seems  to  me  dat  am  a matter  of  bisness  wbarin 
honor  ain’t  got  nuffin  to  say.  Say,  boss,  who’s  de 
man  wid  de  $150. 

P LcESSON. 

Experienced  Tramp  (to  novice)  — Now,  Bill, 
time’s  money  in  this  business  same’s  any  other. 

Novice — Yes? 

Experienced  Tramp — An’  so,  when  you  strikes  a 
man  on  the  street,  an’  he  stops  an’  says  “-Sir,”  an’ 
is  werry  polite,  don’t  try  to  work  him  fur  nuthin, 
cos  you’ll  not  get  it.  Drap  him  to  oncet. 


ffliNNEHAHA  AND  ffliNNEBOOHOO  1 

0 

Some  gentlemen  fresh  from  a Western  tour, 
during  a call  at  the  White  House,  referred  in  the 
course  of  conversation  to  a body  of  water  in  Ne- 
braska, which  bore  an  Indian  name  signifying 
“weeping  water.  ” Mr.  Lincoln  instantly  responded : 
“As  Taughing  water,’  according  to  Longfellow,  is 
Minnehaha,’  this  evidently  should  he  ‘Minneboo- 
hoo.’  ” 


She  Didn’ih  Lh^e  ithe  S^pyle. 

“Ah,  Miss  Amy,”  remarked  young  Fitzpercy 
during  a call  last  night,  “have  you  seen  Chopin’s 
A-fiat  polonaise?” 


A PRIMARY  LESSON. 


P.  272. 


K.;'vr 


JC  IH£ 

‘•->Ty  onumr. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


“Aflat  polonaise!”  replied  Amy.  “No,  and  • 
don’t  think  that  kind  of  a polonaise  would  ever  b( 
fashionable.” 


noTBs  ON  Some  Spiking  Styles. 

• THE  ladies’  FAVOKITE  BONNET  AND  HOSIERY THE  SMALL 

DOG  WORN  IN  SHADES  TO  MATCH  THE  COSTUME 

PREVAILING  FASHIONS  FOR  GENTLEMEN. 


BILL  NYE. 

It  is  customary  at  this  season  of  the  year  to  poke 
fun  at  the  good  clothes  of  our  friends  and  well- 
wishers,  the  ladies,  but  it  occurs  to  me  that  this 
spring  there  is  a very  sn^IFdi^ld  for  the  witty  and 
sarcastic  critic  of  ^ female  attire-.  >There  has  not 
been  a time  since  I first  began  to  make  a study  of 
this  branch  of  science  when  the  ladies  seem  to  have 
manifested  better  taste  or  sounder  judgment  in  the 
matter  of  dress. 

Even  bonnets  seem  to  be  less  grotesque  this 
season  than  heretofore,  although  the  high,  startled 
bonnet,  the  bonnet  that  may  be  characterized  as 
the  excelsior  bonnet,  is  still  retained  by  some, 
though  how  it  is  retained  has  always  been  a mys- 
tery to  me.  Perhaps  it  holds  its  place  in  society  by 
means  of  a long,  black  pin,  which  apparently  passes 

through  the  brain  of  the  wearer. 

18 


274 


THE  WOBLHS 


Black  hosiery  continues  to  be  very  popular,  I ani 
informed.  Sometimes  it  is  worn  clocked,  and  then 
again  it  is  worn  crocked.  The  crockless  black 
stocking  is  gaining  in  favor  in  our  best  circles,  I 
am  pleased  to  note.  Nothing  looks  more  mortified 
than  a foot  that  has  been  inside  of  a crockable 

g 

stocking  all  through  a long,  hot,  summer  day. 

I am  very  glad  to  notice  that  the  effort  made  a 
few  years  ago  by  a French  reformer  to  abolish  the 
stocking  on  the  ground  of  unhealthfulness  has  met 
with  well-merited  failure.  The  custom  of  wearing 
hosiery  is  one  that  does  great  credit  to  the  spirit  of 
American  progress,  which  cannot  be  thwarted  by 
the  puny  hand  of  foreign  interference  or  despotic 
intervention. 

Street  costumes  of  handsomely  fitting  and  unob- 
trusive shades  of  soft  and  comfortable  goods  will 
be  generally  in  favor,  and  the  beautiful  and  sym- 
metrical American  arm  with  a neatly  fitting  sleeve 
on  the  outside  of  it  will  gladden  the  hearts  of  the 
casual  spectator  once  more. 

The  lady  with  the  acute  elbow  and  the  itahcized 
clavicle  will  make  a strong  effort  this  season  to 
abolish  the  close-fitting  and  extremely  attractive 
sleeve,  but  it  will  be  futile. 

The  small  dog  will  be  ^vorn  this  season  in  shades 
to  match  the  costume.  For  dark  and  brown  com- 
binations in  street  dresses  the  black-and-tan  dog 


tf/r  AND  WITS. 


275 


will  be  very  much  in  favor,  while  the  black- an d- 
drah  pug  will  he  affected  by  those  wearing  these 
shades  in  dress.  Small  pugs  that  are  warranted 
not  to  bag  at  the  knees  are  commanding  a good 
price.  Spitz  dogs  to  match  lynx  or  fox  trimmed 
garments  or  spring  wraps  are  now  being  sprinkled 
with  camphor  and  laid  aside  for  the  summer. 
Coach  dogs  of  the  spotted  variety  will  be  worn 
with  polka-dot  costumes.  Tall,  willowy  hounds 
with  wire  tails  will  be  much  affected  by  slender 
young  ladies  and  hydrophobia.  Antique  dogs  with 
weak  eyes,  asthma,  and  an  air  of  languor  will  be 
used  a great  deal  this  season  to  decorate  lawns  and 
railroad  crossings.  Young  dogs  that  are  just  bud- 
ding into  doghood  will  be  noticed  through  the 
spring  months  trying  their  new  teeth  on  the  light 
spring  pantaloons  of  male  pedestrians. 

Styles  in  gentlemen’s  clothing  have  not  materi- 
ally changed.  Lavender  pantaloons,  with  an  air  of 
settled  melancholy  and  benzine,  are  now  making 
their  appearance,  and  young  men  trying  to  eradi- 
cate the  droop  in  the  knees  of  last  summer’s  gar- 
ment may  be  seen  in  their  luxurious  apartments 
most  any  calm  spring  evening. 

An  old  nail-brush,  with  a solution  of  ammonia 
and  prussic  acid,  will  remove  traces  of  custard  pie 
from  light  shades  in  pantaloons^  This  preparation 
will  also  remove  the  pantaloons. 


276 


THE  WOBLHS 


The  umbrella  will  be  worn  over  the  shoulder  and 
in  the  eye  of  the  passing  pedestrian,  very  much  as 
usual  on  pleasant  days,  and  left  behind  the  door  in 
a dark  closet  on  rainy  days. 

Gentlemen  will  wear  one  pocket-handkerchief  in 
the  side  pocket,  with  the  corner  gently  emerging, 
and  another  in  the  hip  pocket,  as  they  did  last  sea- 
son, the  former  for  decorative  purposes  and  the 
latter  for  business.  This  is  a wise  provision  and 
never  fails  to  elicit  favorable  comment. 

The  custom  of  wearing  a few  kernels  of  roasted 
coffee  or  a dozen  cloves  in  the  little  cigarette 
pocket  of  the  cutaway  coat  will  still  continue,  and 
the  supply  will  be  replenished  between  the  acts,  as 
heretofore. 

Straw  hats  will  be  chased  down  the  streets  this 
spring  by  the  same  gentlemen  who  chased  them 
last  spring,  and  in  some  instances  the  same  hats 
will  be  used.  Shade  trees  will  he  worn  a little 
lower  this  summer,  and  will  therefore  succeed  in 
wiping  off  a larger  crop  of  plug  hats,  it  is  hoped. 
Linen  dusters,  with  the  pockets  carefully  soldered 
together,  have  not  yet  made  their  appearance. 

Light  and  Less  Hoise. 

An  editorial,  in  a New  York  journal,  opposing 
Lincoln’s  re-nomination,  is  said  to  have  called  out 
from  him  the  following  story : A traveler  on  the 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


277 


frontier  found  liimself  out  of  liis  reckoning  one 
night  in  a most  inhospitable  region.  A terrific 
thunder-storm  came  up,  to  add  to  his  trouble.  He 
floundered  along  until  his  horse  at  length  gave  out. 
The  lightning  afforded  him  the  only  clew  to  his 
way,  but  the  peals  of  thunder  were  frightful.  One 
bolt,  which  seemed  to  crash  the  earth  beneath  him, 
brought  him  to  his  knees.  By  no  means  a pray- 
ing man,  his  petition  was  short  and  to  the  point — 
“0  Lord,  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  you,  give  us  a little 
more  light  and  a little  less  noiseW 

It  I7AD  Bui^ned  Long  Gnough, 

“John,  it  is  quite  dim  in  this  room.  What  is 
the  matter?” 

“I  don’t  know;  I lit  the  gas  half  an  hour  ago 
and  it  should  have  made  plenty  of  light  by  this 
this. ” — Merchant  Traveler. 

^ Hew  Fashion. 

“Coming  to  Dobbs’s  wedding  to-night?” 

“Sorry,  but — well,  the  fact  is  I haven’t  the 
clothes.” 

“Nonsense!  Your  trousers  and  shoes  will  do, 
and  I’ll  loan  you  a coat  and  vest.  That’s  all  you 
need.” 

“Is  that  so?  When  did  the  swells  quit  wearing 
sliirts ?” — Philadelphia  Call. 


THE  WORLD'^B 

^ Simple  Ballad. 

I love  to  get  up  in  the  mom, 

When  all  is  bright  and  fair, 

And  neatly  mend  my  trousers  torn. 
That  lie  upon  a chair. 

I love  to  sew  the  buttons  on 
The  neck-band  of  my  shirt ; 

I love  to  rub  benzine  upon 
My  garments  soiled  with  dirt. 

I love  to  hunt  around  the  room 
For  things  the  chambermaid 

Has  swept  away  with  ruthless  broom, 

• And  burned  up,  I’m  afraid. 

# 

O 

I love  to  eat  my  frugal  meals 
At  a cheap  restaurant. 

Where,  notwithstanding  my  appeals, 
I can’t  get  what  I want. 

I love  to  go  to  bed  at  two. 

Get  up  again  at  eight. 

And  know  that  no  one  cares  a sou 
Why  I was  out  so  late. 

I love  all  other  things  above. 

When  I’m  asleep,  to  snore — 

In  short,  kind  friends,  I dearly  love 
To  be  a bachelor. 


“I  DEARLY  LOVE  TO  BE  A BACHELOR. 


P.  278. 


tfrfWFT 

OF  TKE 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


279 


- One  op  Ijingoln’s  Di^ollei^ies. 

During  the  Eebellion  an  Austrian  Count  applied 
to  President  * Lincoln  for  a position  in  the  army. 
Being  introduced  by  the  Austrian  Minister,  he 
needed,  of  course,  no  further  recommendation; 
but,  as  if  fearing  that  his  importance  might  not  be 
duly  appreciated,  he  proceeded  to  explain  that  he 
was  a Count ; that  his  family  were  ancient  and 
highly  respectable;  when  Lincoln,  with  a merry 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  tapping  the  aristocratic  lover  of 
titles  on  the  shoulder,  in  ^,f^tt\erly  way,  as  if  the 
man  had  confessed  to  some  wrong,  interrupted  in  a 
soothing  tone,  “Never ‘Mihd ; you ‘shlfll  be  treated 
with  just  as  much  consideration  for  all  that?” 


f)E  WAS  SEI^r^IBLY  Dl^Y, 

AND  THE  INNOCENT  DRUGGIST’s  CLERK  ACCOMMODATED 
HIM  WITH  A DRINK. 

A certain  south  side  druggist  whose  anterior 
name  is  Frederick  has  that  fact  displayed  on  the 
sign  that  hangs  over  the  store  entrance.  Early 
one  morning  last  week  while  the  clerk  was  busily 
engaged  with  his  duster  a seedy-looking  individual 
entered  the  store. 

“Good  morning,”  he  said,  cheerily.  “Is  Fred 
in?” 


280 


THE  WORLD'^S 


“No,”  replied  the  clerk,  “it’s  too  early  for  him. 
He  won’t  show  np  until  9 o’clock.” 

“That  so?”  returned  the  other,  in  a disappointed 
tone.  “Just  my  luck.” 

“Anything  I can  do  for  you?”  inquired  the  clerk. 

“No,  I want  to  see  Fred;  he’s  an  old  friend  of 
mine;”  and  he  turned  as  though  to  leave  the  store. 
He  took  a few  steps  toward  the  door,  but  returned 
and,  with  a confidential  air,  approached  the  clerk 
and  said,  in  a winning  frankness  of  tone : 

“To  tell  you  the  truth,  I’ve  been  on  a toot  for 
several  days  past,  and  I’m  broke.  My  head  feels 
like  a three-story-and-basement  building  and  my 
mouth  feels  as  though  I had  been  eating  flannel. 
I came  in  here  to  get  a drink,  as  I knew  Fred 
would  give  it  to  me  if  he  was  in.  Can’t  you  let 
me  have  a little  whisky?” 

“I  guess  so,”  said  the  clerk,  and  as  he  disap- 
peared behind  the  prescription-case  he  began  to 
chuckle,  and  a look  of  malicious  mischief  settled 
on  his  features. 

“Same  old  game,”  he  muttered,  picking  up  a 
glass;  “I’ll  get  even  with  this  fellow;  he  don’t 
know  Fred  from  a porous-plaster;  saw  the  name 
above  the  door,”  and  he  began  to  pour  liquids  from 
various  bottles  into  the  glass,  stopping  every  little 
while  to  enjoy  the  anticipated  delight  that  con- 
sumed him.  Stepping  from  behind  the  case  he 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


281 


innocently  asked  his  victim  if  he  would  have  a 
little  peppermint  in  his.  The  victim  did  not  care 
if  he  did. 

By  this  time  the  clerk  had  compounded  a mix- 
ture of  gentian,  cayenne  pepper,  quinine,  and  pep- 
permint, which  he  handed  the  tramp  with  gentle 
solicitude,  and  then,  with  a fiendish  glee  marking 
his  countenance,  watched  him  gulp  it  down  with 
eager  thirst.  Slowly  a look  of  intense  disgust  and 
nausea  spread  over  the  face  of  the  victim,  and  then 
with  his  hands  pressed  tightly  against  his  vest 
pockets  he  turned  and  fled,  while  the  heartless 
clerk  fell  up  against  the  counter  in  an  ecstasy  of 
laughter. 

lilNGOIiN  ON  ©I^ITIGISM  AND  BUlili- 

Rf^ogs. 

Concerning  criticism.  President  Lincoln  told  a 
friend  this  story: 

“Some  years  ago  a couple  of  ‘emigrants,’  fresh 
from  the  ‘Emerald  Isle,’  seeking  labor,  were  making 
their  way  toward  the  West.  Coming  suddenly 
one  evening  upon  a pond  of  water,  they  were 
greeted  with  a grand  chorus  of  bull-frogs — a kind 
of  music  they  had  never  before  heard.  ‘B-a-u-m! 
— B-a-u-m !’ 

“Overcome  with  terror,  they  clutched  their  ‘shil- 
lelahs,’  and  crept  cautiously  forward,  straining  their 


282 


THE  WORTH  8 


eyes  in  every  direction  to  catch  a glimpse  of  the 
enemy ; hut  he  was  not  to  be  found  1 

“At  last  a happy  idea  seized  the  foremost  one — 
he  sprang  to  his  companion  and  exclaimed,  hAnd 
sure,  Jamie  I it  is  my  opinion  it’s  nothing  hut  a 
'noise!'  ” 


OVEI^  THE  I^IYEI^. 

The  hours  creep  by  on  leaden  feet. 

And  all  the  day  is  long  to  me. 

I drink  the  hitter  with  the  sweet — 

Things  are  not  as  they  used  to  he. 

It’s  lonesome  living  on  this  way 
Since  iiapa  went  to  Canada. 

Good  sooth,  he  did  not  want  to  go, 

He  told  me,  when  he  said  good-by. 

He  had  the  hoodie  witli  him,  so 

Tliey  could  not  find  it  should  they  try. 
Then  in  a hurried  sort  of  way 
Poor  papa  went  to  Canada. 

His  place  is  empty  on  the  board. 

At  home  we  see  his  vacant  chair; 

And  we,  alas,  seem  quite  ignored 
Because  he’s  neither  here  nor  there. 
There  is  no  place  to  go  or  stay 
Since  papa  went  to  Canada. 

— Brooklyn  Eagle. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


283 


fl  fflOMAN’S  I^BASON. 

A woman  had  been  brought  into  court  charged 
with  attempting  to  poison  her  husband. 

The  Magistrate — Have  you  anything  to  offer  in 
your  defense?” 

She  (in  a hesitating  voice) — Y e e s,  your  honor. 
My  friends  were  all  the  time  telling  me  how  well  I 
would  look  in  black. 


(sONGBi^NiNG  Fanny  and  Fi^angbs. 

Harrisville  girls  read  in  the  Alcona  County  Beview 
that  girls  desiring  to  have  small  mouths  should 
frequently  repeat  rapidly,  “Fanny  Finch  fried  five 
flounder  fish  for  Frances  Fowler’s  father.”  They 
have  formed  societies,  and  are  now  repeating  the 
quotation  in  concert.  They  hope  to  get  their 
mouths  small  enough  to  be  kissed. 


Y}B  U3AS  ©00  INQUISITIVB. 

“Died  of  curiosity,”  was  the  verdict  of  an  Ari- 
zona coroner. 

“Died  of  curiosity?”  incredulously  exclaimed  a 
bystander. 

“Yes,  the  dum  fool.  He  wanted  to  see  how 
Kedheaded  Jimmie  would  act  if  he  called  him  a 
liar.  He  found  out.  Poor  fellow!  There’s  lots 
as  die  of  curiosity  out  here.” — The  Bamhler. 


284 


THE  WORTHS 


By  iiihe  Sea. 

Last  year  we  paced  the  yellow  sands 
Beside  the  restless  sea ; 

I held  in  mine  ^mnr  tiny  hands 
And  drew  you  close  to  me, 

I marked  your  blushes  come  and  go 
The  sigh,  the  smile,  the  tear: 

The  words  you  whispered  soft  and  low 
Were  music  in  mine  ear. 

We  two  were  dreaming  Love's  young  dream 
Besides  the  murmuring  sea ; 

Your  j^resence  made  the  whole  earth  seem 
A paradise  to  me ; 

We  said  our  love  would  never  change. 
Would  no  abatement  know 

While  life  should  last — it  seems  so  strange 
’Twas  just  a year  ago. 

Once  more  we  pace  the  yellow  sands 
Beside  the  summer  sea ; 

I do  not  hold  your  tiny  hands. 

You  do  not  cling  to  me; 

I do  not  press  you  to  my  heart 
And  kiss  your  snowy  brow — ^ 

We’re  strolhng  twenty  yards  apaid, 

For  we  are  married  now. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


286 


Oh,  poi^  a CQanI 

Oh,  for  a man ! the  clear  voice  sang, 

And  through  the  church  the  echo  rang. 

Oh,  for  a man!  she  sang  again — 

How  could  such  sweetness  plead  in  vain? 

The  bad  boy  grinned  across  the  aisles. 

The  deacon’s  frowns  were  changed  to  smiles. 
The  singer’s  cheek  turned  deepest  pink 
At  base  and  tenor’s  wicked  wink. 

The  girls  that  bore  the  alto  part 

Then  took  the  strain  with  all  their  heart ; 

Oh,  for  a man,  a man,  a man — 

And  then  the  full  voiced  choir  began 

To  sing  with  all  their  might  and  main 
The  finis  to  the  girl’s  refrain : 

Oh,  for  a mansion  in  the  skies, 

A man — a mansion  in  the  skies. — Judge. 


FJbad;  ©hen  Sim  ROI^  a Sig^tui^b. 

[lime  kiln  club.j 

“I  has  been  walkin’  ’round  on  top  dis  airth 
mighty  nigh  my  alloted  time,”  said  Brother  Gard- 
ner as  the  band  ceased  playing,  “and  yit  some 
things  are  jist  as  much  a mystery  to  me  as  when  I 
was  20. 


286 


TEE  WORLES 


“How  does  it  happen  dat  de  folkses  who  am  head- 
ober-heels  in  debt  put  on  de  moas’  style? 

‘‘Why  am  it  dat  de  man  wid  a head  full  of  brains 
mus’  play  second-fiddle  to  a monkey  wid  a pocket- 
ful o’  money? 

“How  does  it  come,  dat  while  we  purfess  to  lub 
our  nabor,  nuthin’  tickles  us  mo’  dan  to  h’ar  he  has 
received  a set-back  and  mus’  take  a cheaper  house? 

“How  am  it  dat  de  man  wid  de  biggest  di’mun 
pin,  an’  de  woman  wid  de  moas’  real  lace  on  her 
dress,  git  shet  of  deir  counterfeit  nickels  sooner 
dan  anybody  else? 

“Show  me  a party  of  fifty  pussons  gwine  to  make 
a trip  to  Yurup,  an’  I’ll  pint  out  thirtyfive  who  am 
stayin’  ofi  creditors  to  do  it. 

“We  complain  dat  servant  gals  doan’  know  deir 
duties,  an’  we  eddicate  our  darters  to  ignore  house- 
work as  beneaf  ’em.  De  hired  gals  of  the  next 
ginerashun  won’t  be  to  blame  if  dey  mix  bread  in 
de  bath-tub  an’  mash  ’taters  wid  a beer  bottle. 

“When  de  preacher  gits  up  in  de  pulpit  an’ 
splains  dat  de  African  heathen  am  pinin’  fur  tracks 
an’  Bibles  we  shell  out  de  cash  wid  hot  fingers. 
When  de  widder  calls  at  de  front  doah  to  inform 
us  dat  her  chill’en  am  cold  and  hungry  an’  ragged, 
we  keep  de  cash  keerfully  salted  down,  an’  won- 
der if  an  autograph  album  wouldn’t  help  de  fam’ly 
to  pull  frew. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


m 


‘‘Seems  to  me,  as  I lean  on  de  fence  an"  look 
ober  de  landscape,  dat  a good  sheer  of  dis  world  am 
wrong  eand  to.  De  shine  of  brass  keetches  de  eye 
whar’  silver  am  unnoticed.  A loud  voice  gathers 
a crowd  sooner  dan  sweet  song.  Society  demands 
a dress  coat  an’  a white  shirt,  an’  if  dat  demand  am 
satisfied  nobody  will  ax  de  wearer  whether  he  has 
bin  in  state  prison  or  de  State  Legislachur!  Let 
us  now  purceed  to  dispatch  de  routine  bizness  of 
de  eavenin’.” 


Lincoln’s  Sjpoi^y  op  Sallib  O^Af^D’s  ©i^ag- 
TiCAL  Philosophy. 

When  the  telegram  from  Cumberland  Gap 
reached  Mr.  Lincoln  that  “firing  was  heard  in  the 
direction  of  Knoxville,”  he  remarked  that  he  “was 
glad  of  it.”  Some  person  present,  who  had  the 
perils  of  Burnside’s  position  uppermost  in  his  mind, 
could  not  see  ivhy  Mr.  Lincoln  should  be  glad  of 
it,  and  so  expressed  himself. 

“Why,  you  see,”  responded  the  President,  “it 
reminds  me  of  Mrs.  Sallie  Ward,  a neighbor  of 
mine,  who  had  a very  large  family.  Oceasionally 
one  of  her  numerous  progeny  would  be  heard  cry- 
ing in  some  out-of-the-way  place,  upon  which  Mrs. 
Ward  would  exclaim: 

^There's  one  of  viy  children  that  isn't  dead,  yetd  ” 


THE  ^VORLHS 


Seen  Y}E^  Best  Days. 

A Chicago  man,  wlio  has  recently  returned  from 
Europe,  was  asked  what  he  thought  of  Kome. 

“Well,”  he  replied,  “Eome  is  a fair-sized  towm, 
but  I couldn’t  help  hut  think  wEen  I w^as  there 
that  she  had  seen  her  best  days.” 


Fi^ivoLous  Ghost. 

The  ghost  in  the  “Corsican  Brothers, ’’now being 
played  in  Xew  Orleans,  walks  around  with  gold 
sleeve  buttons,  which  creole  audiences  think  rather 
an  innovation  on  the  established  custom  of  ghosts. 


It  Gould  Go  Out. 

“How  I envy  the  sitting-room  fire,”  sighed  the 
new  girl  to  Mrs.  Frizzletop. 

“And  why,  pray?”  asked  her  mistress. 

“Because  it  is  allowed  to  go  out  these  lovely 
afternoons.” 


fiN  Gppegtiye  Sapeguaj^d. 

“I’m  afraid  w^e  shan’t  have" this  compartment  to- 
ourselves  any  longer,  Janet.” 

“Oh,  it’s  all  right,  aunty,  darhng.  If  you  put  ’ 
your  head  out  of  the  window,  I daresay  nobody 
will  come  in!” — Punch. 


IT  COULD  GO  OUT 


[>.  288. 


tnnuiRV 

OF  THE  • 

u.itvERsrry  of  iuiKor. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


289 


One  op  Lcingoln’s  Iiast  Stoi^ibs. 

One  of  the  last  stories  heard  from  Mr.  Lincoln 
was  concerning  John  Tyler,  for  whom  it  was  to  be 
expected,  as  an  old  Henry  Clay  Whig,  he  would 
entertain  no  great  respect.  year  or  two  after 
Tyler’s  accession  to  the  Presidency,”  said  he,  ‘‘con- 
templating an  excursion  in  some  direction,  his  son 
went  to  order  a special  train  of  cars.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  the  railroad  superintendent  was  a very 
strong  Whig.  On  ‘Bob’s’  making  known  his  errand, 
that  official  bluntly  informed  him  that  his  road  did 
not  run  any  special  trains  for  the  President. 

“ ‘What!’  said  ‘Bob,’  ‘dp^V^Sh  not  furnish  a 
special  train  for  the  fUfUeral^Qf  General  garrison?’ 

“Yes,’  said  the  superintendent,  stroking  his  whis- 
kers ; ‘and  if  you  will  only  bring  your  father  here  in 
that  shape,  you  shall  have  the  best  train  on  the 
road!’  ” 


©HE  Sl^ADUATE. 

He  could  quote  from  musty  pages,  delve  in  geo- 
logic ages,  and  relaxed  himself  in  synthesis 
and  such; 

Could  construct  an  exegesis,  startle  with  a subtle 
thesis,  and  involve  a tortured  subject  over- 
much. 


19 


290 


THE  WORLHS 

He  was  great  in  mathematics,  as  applied  to  hydros 
statics,  or  eternal  evolution  of  the  spheres ; 

His  chronology  was  reckoned  from  the  minimum 
of  second  to  the  undiscovered  maximum  of 
years. 

He  was  constantly  amazing  with  philology  and 
phrasing,  with  vocabulistic  plenitude  and  ease ; 

He  was  by  his  fellows  quoted,  as  a lexicon  is  noted, 
his  attainments  were  superlative  degrees. 

On  commencement  his  oration  was  received  with 
an  ovation,  oh!  his  temporary  glory  was  im- 
mense. 

While  the  complimenting  flowers  fell  around  in 
fragrant  showers,  and  the  fever  of  the  moment 
was  intense. 


(sAPEr^S  OP  JTHB  fflUSES. 

“0  where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid?” 

“I’m  going  a-chestnuting,  sir,”  she  said. 

And  she  spoke  sober  truth,  in  sooth,  for  lo ! 

She  had  a ticket  for  the  minstrel  show. 

— The  Judge. 

"When  the  c}unbals  and  the  castanets  commence 
To  dehght  the  ra\dshed  ear  of  waking  sense. 

Then  remember  serenading 
- Is  a scheme  for  larder  raiding. 

And  your  pantry  shelves  wiU  sufier  the  expense. 

— Neiv  York  World. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


. 291 


Now  the  birds  sing  on  the  maple  limb, 

The  sweet  hyacinth  begins  to  sprout ; 

And  the  rash  small  boy  goes  in  to  swim, 

And  gets  his  shirt  on  wrong  side  out. 

— Norristoivn  Herald. 

‘‘Farewell,  kind  friends,”  he  sadly  said. 

And  bitter  tears  of  anguish  shed. 

“Let  us  refuse  to  think  of  pain, 

And  fondly  hope  to  meet  again ; 

Farewell ! I go  at  duty’s  call. 

As  umpire  in  a game  of  ball.”  — Tid-Bits. 

Soon  the  golden  woodbine  will  blossom  on  the 
porch. 

And  then  the  gladioli  be  burning  like  a torch. 
White  clouds  will  float  serenely  adown  the  turquoise 
sky. 

And  from  the  spry  poundmaster  will  scoot  the  old 
ki-yi. 


The  Chinese  minister,  Chang  Yen  Woon, 
A genuine  blood  of  the  great  tycoon. 

Is  a mandarin  of  the  second  degree. 

Who  lives  on  the  river  Yang  T-Sie. 

Six  years  collector  for  old  San  Tung, 

He  carried  the  deestrict  by  the  bung. 

And  leaving  finally  Foo  Che  Foo, 

He  became  collector  down  at  Wu  Hu. 


m 


THE  ^WORLHS 


He  served  a term  at  this,  and  then 
They  made  him  a judge  across  at  Wa  Hen. 

A merry  old  rooster  then  was  he, 

This  mandarin  of  the  second  degree. 

Thence  to  Pekin  as  Tsung  Li  Youk, 

Where  he  put  on  the  style  of  a royal  dook ; 
Anon  we’ll  see  him  very  soon 
As  U.  S.  Minister  Chang  Yen  Woon. 

— Washington  Critic. 

Small  boy; 

Bright  dreams; 

Much  joy; 

Quiet  stream. 

Great  delight 
Seizes  him ; 

None  in  sight; 

Takes  a svum. 

Little  lad — 

Old  story — 

Very  sad — 

Boy  in  glory.  — Tid-Bits. 

“Heah,  you  go  tell  Gawge  Washington 
Buchanan  Jackson  Smif 
To  come  and  put  he  gawments  on, 

Or  else  I knock  ’im  stiff. 


293 


“An  ’Lisabith  Victoria, 

An’  Lilly  Langtry  Jane, 

You  bes’  come  in  heah  to  your  ma, 

Outen  all  dat  rain.” 

— Pittsburg- Commercial-  Gazette. 


She  Best  ^ay  Out. 

“How  do  you  manage  with  your  wife  when  you 
go  home  late  nights?” 

“Easily  enough — I don’t  go  home.” 


Lincoln’s  Stoi^y  op  a I^oodle  Dog  Used 

ON  THE  0ND  OP  A LONG  DOLE 
TO  Swab  O^indows. 

A friend  who. was  walking  over  from  the  White 
House  to  the  War  Department  with  Mr.  Lincoln, 
repeated  to  him  the  story  of  a “contraband”  who 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  some  good,  pious 
people,  and  was  being  taught  by  them  to  read  and 
pray. 

Going  off  by  himself  one  day,  he  was  overheard 
to  commence  a prayer  by  the  introduction  of  him- 
self as  “Jim  Williams — a berry  good  nigga’  to  wash 
windows;  ’spec’s  you  know  me  now?” 

After  a hearty  laugh  at  what  he  called  this  “di- 
rect way  of  putting  the  case,”  Mr.  Lincoln  said: 


294 


TEE  WORLES 


“The  story  that  suggests  to  me,  has  no  resem- 
blance to  it,  save  in  the  ^vashing  windows’  part. 
A lady  in  Philadelphia  had  a pet  poodle  dog,  which 
mysteriously  disappeared.  Rewards  were  offered 
for  him,  and  a great  ado  made  without  effect. 
Some  weeks  passed,  and  all  hope  of  the  favorite’s 
return  had  been  given  up,  when  a servant  brought 
him  in  one  day  in  the  filthiest  condition  imagin- 
able. The  lady  was  OA^erjoyed  to  see  her  pet  again, 
but  horrified  at  his  appearance. 

‘Where  did  you  find  him?’  she  exclaimed. 

“ ‘Oh,’  replied  the  man,  very  unconcernedly,  ‘a 
negro  down  the  street  had  him  tied  to  the  end  of  a 
pole,  siDohbing  windcg^^’A’^ 


fl  Row  Fellow. 

Adolphus — I say,  Weginald,  I saw  you  talking  to 
that  dw^eadful  cad  De  Smithe  yesterday.  Don’t  do 
it  again,  chappie;  the  fellah  is  a low  chap,  ye 
knoAv. 

Reginald — Bless  me,  I thought  the  fellah  was  a 
decent  soht,  ye  know. 

Adolphus — Oh,  deah  no ! Why,  I saAv  him  dowm 
the  stAveet  the  othaAv  day  cawying  a bundle — act- 
ually a bundle. 

Reginald — The  vulgah  bAvute? — The  Uamhler, 


tiBRAmr 
..  OF  THE 
Ui!!VEf{2iTY  Of  lUtMlS 


SHE  HAD  HER  REVENGE. 


P.  295 


Kd  i/j'hiinn 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


295 


Y)E  Y}AD  a FJELiAPSE. 

Jones — Hullo,  old  man!  Come  in  and  take 
something. 

Brown — Why,  I thought  you’d  sworn  oh. 

Jones — Of  course  I did;  but  I have  my  periodi- 
cal relapses  from  virtue,  and,  as  Mrs.  Jones  is  out 
of  town  for  a week,  I am  relapsing  now. 

fl  gUESHUONABLE  I^EMEDY. 

The  baby  had  got  hold  of  a dish  of  cranberries 
and  a hard  case  of  colic  was  the  inevitable  result. 

‘‘What  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  good  and  bad,” 
said  the  head  of  the  house,  who  was  trying  to  read 
his  paper,  “is  the  cause  of  that  baby’s  screaming?” 

“Cranberries,”  replied  the  mother.  “Hush,  my 
baby,  hush — ” 

“Well,  for  heaven’s  sake  if  she  wants  cranberries, 
give  her  some.  Anything  to  stop  that  noise.” 


She  Y)AD  I^ei^  FJeyenge. 

Mrs.  Greening — How  strange  it  seems  for  us  to 
be  married.  We  who  used  to  quarrel  so  much. 

Mr.  Greening — Yes ; we  did  have  some  trouble  at 
first. 

Mrs.  G. — Do  you  remember  that  night  last  June 
when  you  flirted  so  and  I vowed  that  I would  be 
revenged  ? 


296 


THE  WORTHS 


Mr.  G. — Well,  you  got  even  at  last,  didn’t  you? 

Mrs.  G. — Why,  how? 

Mr.  G. — By  marrying  me! — The  Bamblef. 
Stoi^y  op  Salmon. 

One  evening  W.  J.  Florence,  the  actor,  sat  in 
the  club-room  telling  of  his  exploits  on  a salmon 
river  in  New  Brunswick.  “How  many  salmon  did 
you  catch?”  a visitor  inquired. 

Florence  nearly  fell  from  his  chair  at  the  ignor- 
ance displayed  in  the  question.  “Fishermen,  sir,” 
said  he,  with  freezing  hauteur,  “never  use  the  word 
catch  as  you  apply  it.  They  kill  salmon.  - They 
never  catch  them. 

The  rebuked  listener  turned  scarlet  but  made  no 
response.  A moment  afterward  Laurence  Jerome, 
the  father  of  Lady  Eandolph  Churchill,  and  an  ex- 
cellent story-teller,  began  to  talk  of  his  adventures 
on  a salmon  stream.  He  was  describing  himself  as 
standing  on  a bank  at  daybreak  whipping  a “Jack 
Scott,”  over  the  water,  when  he  hooked  a big  sal- 
mon. “I  was  so  excited,”  he  said,  “that  I dropped 
my  slungshot  in  the  water  and  lost  the  fish.” 

. “Dropped  what?”  Florence  asked,  in  open-eyed 
atonishment. 

“My  slungshot,”  Jerome  rephed. 

“Why,  what  could  you  do  with  a slungshot  at 
such  a time?”  Florence  inquired, 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


297 


‘‘Best  thing  in  the  world  to  kill  a salmon  with,” 
Jerome  said,  going  right  on  with  his  story,  while 
everybody  roared. 


Samuel  and  Ijuginda. 

A COLOKED  WEDDING  AT  GEENADA,  MISS. “I’ZE  GWINE 

TO  STICK.” 

One  of  the  waiters  at  the  hotel  in  Grenada, 
Miss.,  told  us  that  a colored  wedding  was  coming 
off  that  evening,  and  several  white  people  went 
over  to  the  house  designated  to  witness  the  affair. 
The  happy  couple  finally  stood  up  before  the  min- 
ister, who  said: 

“Samuel,  you  an’  Lucinda  am  shortly  to  be  jined 
together.  Does  you  desire  to  back  out?” 

“No,  sah.” 

“How  am  it  wid  you,  Lucinda?  Does  you  want 
to  flunk  afore  dese  yere  white  folks?” 

“No,  sah.” 

“Den  you  two  hitch  hands.” 

They  hitched. 

“Samuel,  does  you  take  her  fur  better  or  wuss? 
Am  you  gwine  to  do  de  fa’r  thing  by  dis  yere  gurl, 
whose  ladder  was  killed  on  de  railroad  up  nigh 
Jackson?” 

“Yes,  sah.” 

“Lucinda,  does  you  realize  de  seriousness  of  dis 
opportunity?  Am  you  gwine  to  stick  to  Samuel 


298 


THE  WORTHS 


clean  frew  to  de  judgment-day,  or  am  you  gwine 
to  trifle  around  arter  odder  men?” 

“I’ze  gwine  to  stick.” 

“Den,  cliill’en,  in  de  presence  of  dese  yere  white 
men  from  de  Norf,  one  of  whom  subscribed,  two 
bits  yesterday  to  help  build  up  de  meetin ’-house 
dat  was  blowed  down  by  de  sighclone,  I denounce 
you  as  hitched,  jined,  an’  mar’d  ’cordin’  to  de  law 
an’  gospel.  Now  you  go  ’long  an’  behave  yer- 
selves.” — Detroit  Free  Press. 


r)OF^SE-(iAI^  SEGf^ET. 

Coming  down  from  the  capitol  this  afternoon  in 
a crowded  car  were  two  handsomely  dressed  ladies 
who  chatted  with  astonishing  unconsciousness  of 
their  surroundings.  One  lady  was  a senator’s  wife 
and  the  other  a Washington  belle.  The  following 
was  overheard  by  every  occupant  of  the  car : 

“It  is  a dead  secret  that  Lida  Waite  is  to  be  mar- 
ried in  June.  She  told  me  so  herself,  and  I have 
not  breathed  it  to  a single  person.” 


Sai^PI^ISING  ^apa. 

John  Friend,  24  years  'of  age,  and  Mrs.  Ada 
Bruner,  a widow  of  35  summers,  eloped  Wednesday 
from  Charleston,  Ind.,  to  Jeffersonville,  where  they 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


299 


were  married  by  Justice  Keigwin.  The  couple 
came  down  the  river  in  a sailboat.  Friend  was  in 
his  shirt-sleeves  and  had  but  $1.50  in  his  pocket. 
He  borrowed  enough  money  from  the  county  clerk 
to  get  his  license,  and  the  obliging  justice  tied  the 
knot  gratuitously.  The  bride  said  that  the  run- 
away was  arranged  to  surprise  her  “papa.”  She 
desired  the  newspapers  to  write  up  the  event,  and 
if  possible  to  illustrate  them  sailing  down  the  river. 


P (sONYBNIEN^r  FJUliB. 

In  his  capacity  of  debtor  Jones  pursues  some 
?iueer  methods. 

“As  for  me,”  said  he,  “when  a creditor  takes  it 
nto  his  head  to  write  to  me  I cross  him  oh  my 
list.  That  settles  it;  no  money  for  him!” 

“And  when  he  doesn’t  write?” 

. “In  that  case  I wait  until  he  does.” — Judge, 


©UPID,  JPHB  Book  flOBNJP. 
[puck.] 

I will  not  touch  love’s  hand  (she  said), 
Nor  will  I see  his  pleading  eyes; 

I know  him,  for  his  lips  are  red; 

He  shall  not  take  me  by  surprise. 


300 


THE  WORLHS 


I know  his  eyes  a:ipii,^iwa  (she  smiled), 
I know  the  sheen  of  ev.ery 

Ah,  love  (she  sa1^d);'you  are  a ‘child, 
And  can’t  deceive  a Yassar  girl! 

Love  spectacled  his  sapphire  eyes. 
And  dressed  himself  in  sober  black; 

Ho,  ho ! (he  laughed)  in  this  disguise 
I’ll  hide  the  arrows  on  my  back. 

He  started  out  in  early  spring. 

And  in  the  fields  the  maiden  met 

As  she  tripped  onward,  loitering 
Among  the  grasses,  lush  and  wet 

With  cooling  moisture  of  the  dew. 

He  opened  wide  a musty  tome ; 

I wish  (he  said)  to  show  to  you 
A parchment  history  of  Eome ; 

And  here  is  Bacon  bound  in  calf, 

And  Browning  in  a vellum  vest ; 

Here’s  Emerson  in  sheep  at  half 
The  usual  price — and  all  the  rest. 

The  maid  selected  one  small  book. 
And  clasped  it  with  a tender  touch; 

It’s  T.  B.  Aldrich  that  I took. 

But,  sir,  I think  you  ask  too  much! 


“only  look  within  my  eyes.” 


p.  301. 


WIT  AND  WIT&. 


801 


I do  love  books  (she  sighed),  and,  oh! 

How  few  of  tliem  I can  possess ! 

Love’s  heart  began  to  throb  and  glow; 

He  felt  the  hidden  arrows  press 

His  tender  flesh ; he  threw  aside 
The  spectacles,  his  best  disguise; 

If  you  will  touch  my  hand  (he  cried). 

And  only  look  within  my  eyes. 

These  books  are  yours,  fair  Vassar  maid! 

Oh ! do  not  turn  away  your  head. 

And  look  so  cold ! be  not  afraid. 

For  I am  only  love!  (he  said).  ^ 

The  maiden’s  cheeks  were  all  aflame; 

She  coyly  pressed  his  finger-tips. 

Then  down  she  bent  (and  who  shall  blame?) 
And  swiftly  kissed  his  rose-red  lips ! 


^HY  F)e  Didn’t  Go  Into  the  Speculation. 

An  Eastern  drummer  who  was  in  Knoxville  lis- 
tened to  the  complaints  of  a mountaineer  about 
hard  times  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  and  then  ob- 
served : ‘ AVhy,  man,  you  ought  to  get  rich  shipping 
green  corn  to  the  Northern  markets.”  “Yes,  I 
orter,”  was  the  reply.  “You  have  the  land,  I sup- 
pose, and  can  get  the  seed?”  “Yes.”  “Then  why 


302  THE  WORLHB 

don’t  you  go  into  the  speculation?”  “No  use, 
stranger,”  sadly  replied  the  native;  “the  old  woman 
is  too  darned  lazy  to  do  the  plowing  and  planting.” 

©0  A fflAN  OJOULD 

Select  the  girl. 

Agree  with  the  girl’s  father  in  pohtics  and  the 
mother  in  religion. 

If  you  have  a rival  keep  an  eye  on  him ; if  he  is 
a widower  keep  two  eyes  on  him. 

Don’t  swear  to  the  girl  that  you  have  no  bad 
habits.  It  will  be  enough  for  you  to  say  that  you 
never  heard  yourself  snore  in  your  sleep. 

Don’t  put  much  sweet  stuff  on  paper.  If  you 
do  you  will  hear  it  read  in  after  years,  when  your 
wife  has  some  especial  purpose  in  inflicting  upon 
you  the  severest  punishment  known  to  a married 
man. 

Go  home  at  a reasonable  hour  in  the  evening. 
Don’t  wait  until  the  girl  has  to  throw  her  whole 
soul  into  a yawn  that  she  can’t  cover  with  both 
hands.  A little  thing  like  that  might  cause  a cool- 
ness at  the  very  beginning  of  the  game. 

If,  on  the  occasion  of  your  first  call,  the  girl 
upon  whom  you  have  placed  your  young  affections 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


303 


looks  like  an  iceberg  and  acts  like  a cold  wave, 
take  your  leave  early  and  stay  away.  Woman  in 
her  hours  of  freeze  is  uncertain,  coy,  and  hard  to 
please. 

In  cold  weather  finish  saying  good-night  in  the 
house.  Don’t  stretch  it  all  the  way  to  the  front 
gate  and  thus  lay  the  foundation  for  future  asthma, 
bronchitis,  neuralgia,  and  chronic  catarrh,  to  help 
you  worry  the  girl  to  death  after  she  has  married 
you.* 

Don’t  lie  about  your  financial  condition.  It  is 
very  annoying  to  a bride  who  has  pictured  for  her- 
self a life  of  luxury  in  her  ancestral  halls  to  learn 
too  late  that  you  expect  her  to  ask  a bald-headed 
parent  who  has  been  uniformly  kind  to  her  to  take 
you  in  out  of  the  cold. 

If  you  sit  down  on  some  molasses  candy  that 
little  Willie  has  left  on  the  chair,  while  wearing 
your  new  summer  trousers  for  the  first  time,  smile 
sweetly  and  remark  that  you  don’t  mind  sitting  on 
molasses  candy  at  all,  and  that  ^^boys  will  be 
boys.”  Deserve  your  true  feelings  for  future  refer- 
ence. 

Don’t  be  too  soft'.  Don’t  say:  ‘‘These  little 
hands  shall  never  do  a stroke  of  work  when  they 
are  mine,”  and  “You  shall  have  nothing  to  do  in 


304 


THE  WORLD^S 


our  home  but  to  sit  all  day  long  and  chirp  to  the 
canaries,”  as  if  any  sensible  woman  could  be  happy 
fooling  away  time  in  that  sort  qf  style,  and  a girl 
has  a fine  retentive  memory  for  the  soft  things  and 
silly  promises  of  courtship,  and  occasionally,  in 
after  years,  when  she  is  washing  the  dinner  dishes 
or  patching  the  west  end  of  your  trousers,  she  will 
remind  you  of  them  in  a cold,  sarcastic  tone  of 
voice. 

^ Rathei^’s  LcEJIUTEI^. 

A FEW  SUGGESTIONS  TO  A SON  AT  SCHOOL. 

BILL  NYE. 

My  Dear  Son  : Your  letter  of  last  week  reached 
us  yesterday,  and  I enclose  ^13  which  is  all  I have 
by  me  at  the  present  time.  I may  sell  the  other 
shote  next  week  and  make  up  the  balance  of  what 
you  wanted.  I will  probably  have  to  wear  the  old 
buffalo  overcoat  to  meetings  again  this  winter,  but 
that  don’t  matter  so  long  as  you  are  getting  an  ed- 
ucation. 

I hope  you  will  get  your  education  as  cheap  as 
you  can,  for  it  cramps  your  mother  and  me  like 
Sam  Hill  to  put  up  the  money.  Mind  you  I don’t 
complain.  I knew  education  come  high,  but  I 
didn’t  know  clothes  cost  like  sixty. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


305 


I want  you  to  be  so  you  can  go  anywhere  and 
spell  the  hardest  word,  I want  you  to  be  able  to  go 
among  the  Eomans  or  the  Medes  and  Persians  and 
talk  to  any  of  them  in  their  own  native  tongue. 

I never  had  any  advantages  when  I was  a boy, 
but  your  mother  and  I decided  that  we  would  sock 
you  full  of  knowledge,  if  your  hver  held  out,  regard- 
less of  expense.  We  calculate  to  do  it,  only  we 
want  you  to  go  as  slow  on  swallow-tail  coats  as 
possible  till  we  can  sell  our  hay. 

Now  regarding  that  boat-paddling  suit,  and  that 
bathing  suit,  and  that  roller-rinktum  suit,  and  that 
lawn-tennis  suit,  mind,  I don’t  care  about  the 
expense,  because  you  say  a young  man  can’t 
really  educate  himself  without  them,  but  I wish 
you  would  send  home  what  you  get  through  with 
this  fall,  and  I’ll  wear  them  through  the  winter 
under  my  other  clothes.  We  have  a good  deal 
severer  winters  here  than  we  used  to,  or  else  I’m 
failing  in  bodily  health.  Last  winter  I tried  to  go 
through  without  underclothes,  the  way  I did  when 
I was  a boy,  but  a Manitoba  wave  came  down  our 
way  and  picked  me  out  of  a crowd  with  its  eyes  shet. 

In  your  last  letter  you  alluded  to  getting  injured 
in  a little  “hazing  scuffle  with  a pelican  from  the 
rural  districts.”  I don’t  want  any  harm  to  come 
to  you,  my  son,  but  if  I went  from  the  rural  dis- 


20 


306 


THE  WORTHS 


tricts  and  another  young  gosling,  from  the  rural 
districts  undertook  to  haze  me,  I would  meet  him 
when  the  sun  goes  down,  and  I would  swat  him 
across  the  back  of  the  neck  with  a fence  board,  and 
then  I would  meander  across  the  pit  of  his  stomach 
and  put  a blue  for-get-me-not  under  his  eye. 

Your  father  ain’t  much  on  Grecian  mythology 
and  how  to  get  the  square  root  of  a barrel  of  pork, 
but  he  wouldn’t  allow  any  educational  institutions 
to  haze  him  with  impunity.  Perhaps  you  remem- 
ber once  when  you  tried  to  haze  your  father  just  to 
kill  time,  and  how  long  it  took  you  to  recover. 
Anybody  that  goes  at  it  right  can  have  a good  deal 
of  fun  with  your  father,  but  those  who  have  sought 
to  monkey  with  him  just  to  break  up  the  monotony 
of  life,  have  most  always  succeeded  in  finding  what 
they  sought. 

I ain’t  much  of  a penman,  so  you  will  have  to 
excuse  this  letter.  We  are  all  quite  well,  except 
old  Fan,  who  has  a galded  shoulder,  and  hope  this 
will  find  you  enjoying  the  same  great  blessing. 

Your 

FATHEE. 


©HE  GXAMINAJFION  OF  GlP^LS. 

Yes,  Nina,  you  are  perfectly  right.  The  time 
has  come  for  woman  to  break  her  fetters,  and  soar 
into  the  clearer  ether  of  knowledge  and  education. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


307 


Long  enough — too  long,  in  fact — has  she  been  kept 
from  enjoying  the  benefits  of  a higher  and  more 
liberal  education.  Brutal  man  has  thus  far  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  her  without  the  walls  of  our 
universities,  hut  all  to  no  purpose.  She  is  bound 
to  traverse  the  classic  halls  of  our  colleges  sooner 
or  later,  and  the  longer  masculine  jealousy  shall  hold 
her  away  from  her  cherished  goal,  heavier  and 
harder  will  become  his  burden,  until  at  last  he  will 
be  forced  to  yield  in  abject  fear,  and  with  the  in- 
dex-finger of  retributive  justice  pointing  in  scorn 
and  derision  at  his  futile  resistance. 

Thus  far  do  we  agree  with  you,  Nina;  but  allow 
us,  in  all  humility,  to  beg  leave  to  make  a sugges- 
tion. It  is  hardly  fair  to  compel  gentle  woman  to 
cast  aside  all  the  subjects  which  are  her  constant 
care  and  study,  and  in  their  place  take  up  the 
things  which  are  only  in  man’s  province.  This  is 
unfair  to  her,  Nina.  She  should  have  questions 
put  to  her  on  examinations  which  will  not  cause 
her  to  forget  altogether  that  she  is  a woman. 

We  beg,  therefore,  Nina,  to  suggest  an  entrance 
examination  which  will  adequately  illustrate  her 
fitness  or  non-fitness  to  grapple  with  the  hard,  dry 
pabulum  of  a college  course.  An  examination- 
paper,  Nina,  something  like  the  following,  is  our 
idea.  It  will  show  pretty  well  what  she  knows,  or 
ought  to  know: 


308 


THE  WOELH& 


EXAMINATION  PAPEK— (PATENTED.) 

Eor  Young  Ladies  Entering  the  Lahyrinth  of 

Knotvledge. 

ALGEBRA. 

Solve  the  following  equation : 

x + y=z. 

j xr=  a Biiinmer  at  Newport. 

( y — a designing  mamma. 

Find  the  square  of  a crazy-quilt. 

GEOGRAPHY. 

Locate  Saratoga,  Long  Branch,  Mt.  Desert,  Cape 
May,  Narragansett  Pier. 

What  is  an  Oyster  Bay? 

What  is  a sti’eam  of  iVdmirers? 

ASTRONOMY. 

state  whether  a star  or  crescent  is  the  more  appro- 
priate setting  for  diamonds. 

State  the  reason  for  the  son’s  declination  to  take 
the  hint  concerning  a moonlight  drive. 

ARITHMETIC. 

If  Susie  has  one  new  dress,  and  Clara  has  two  new 
dresses,  how  many  more  callers  will  Clara  have 
during  an  evening? 

If  Arabella  likes  Claude,  and  Claude  likes  somebody 
else,  what  does  Arabella  think  of  somebody  else  ? 


V;' IT  AND  WITS. 


309 


KHETOKIC. 

Solve  the  following  syllogisms : 

“I  must  have  a new  honnet,  John.” 

“Why,  my  dear?”, 

“Because.” 

“I  hate  those  Smith  girls.” 

“Everybody  seems  to  like  them.” 

“I  don’t;  they’re  horrid.” 

GEOMETKY. 

Problem — To  construct  a brown-stone  front  and 
establishment  on  the  base  of  a nine-hundred- 
dollar  salary. 

Square  a milliner’s  bill. 

Find  a cube  root  of  sassafras. 

NATURAL  HISTORY. 

What  bird  is  most  appropriate  for  a walking-hat? 
State  why  the  nose  of  the  pug  is  retrousse. 

BOTANY. 

State  why  each  petal  of  a Jacqueminot  rose 
costs  enough  to  furnish  a poor  man  with  a 
meal. 

SURVEYING. 

Take  Broadway  as  a base  line  for  shopping. 
Departure — 9 ;30  a.  m. 

The  distance — Five  blocks. 

State  the  time  required  to  buy  a spool  of  cotton 
and  return  home  so  as  to  arrive  before  six 
o’clock  dinner. 


310 


THE  WORTHS 


LANGUAGES. 

Translate  Foemina  miitahile  semper. 

— L.  B.  Gatlin  in  Fuck, 

Liasit  Uagajfion. 

I met  her  on  West  Hampton  Beach, 

Where  I was  spending  my  vacation, 

And  pelted  her  with  flowers  of  speech : 

It  was  my  only  recreation. 

I told  her  that  I loved  her  well. 

Admired  her  face,  her  graceful  carriage; 

And  in  the  pause  of  ocean’s  swell 
Hinted  of  our  prospective  marriage. 

We  sought  the  beach  at  morn  and  eve, 

On  the  piazza  took  our  nooning ; 

And  in  two  weeks,  you  may  believe, 

We  did  an  awful  lot  of  spooning. 

I was  a fool;  I might* have  known 
That  I,  in  town,  would  soon  recover; 

While  she  stiU  claims  me  as  her  own 
Accepted  and  acknowledged  lover. 

'She  sends  me  gushing  missives,  all 
About  her  heart— and  how  I won  it, 

And  0,  my  salary’s  so  small 
I really  wish  I hadn’t  done  it! 


I MET  HER  ON  WEST  HAMPTON  BEACU." 


P.  310. 


UEHwfnr 

OF  THE 

UrnVERSlTY  OF  ILUHOIS 


/ 


Vi^IT  AND  WITS, 


311 


UNGLE  I^EMUS  I^ETUr^NS. 

THE  OLD  man’s  DISINTEEESTED  VOTE  ON  THE  PKOHIBITION 
QUESTION  IN  GEOKGIA. 

There  were  many  exclamations  of  astonishment 
yesterday  when  Uncle  Eemns  walked  into  the  office. 
He  had  not  made  his  appearance  in  some  time,  and 
there  were  various  rumors  as  to  his  whereabouts. 
It  had  been  reported  that  he  had  gone  back  to 
Putnam  County,  that  he  was  farming  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Decatur,  and  that  he  was  raising  water- 
melons on  the  Sand  Do^^^'^Jad.  The  result  of 
this  uncertainty  wa.s  %j^iagUQUee]ing,^f  uneasiness 
in  the  editorial  department,  and  when  he  made  his 
appearance  yesterday  he  was  heartily  welcomed — 
indeed,  he  was  greeted  with  such  effusion  that  it 
caused  him  some  degree  of  embarrassment.  His 
broad  smile,  however,  showed  that  he  was  pleased, 
and  he  inquired  with  affectionate  familiarity  in  re- 
gard to  the  health  of  each  one  of  the  young  men. 
Time  had  dealt  very  gently  with  him.  His  hair 
seemed  to  be  a little  whiter,  hut  his  frame  was  as 
stalwart  as  ever,  and  his  good  humor  as  prominent. 

“Where  m the  round  world  have  you  been?”  one 
of  the  young  men  asked, 

“Well,  sir,”  the  old  man  replied  with  a chuckle, 
‘T  des  bin  bangin’  ’roun’  ’twixt  livin’  an’  dyin’,  en 
dat’s  ’bout  much  ez  anybody  kin  do  deze  days. 


312 


THE  WOBLD^S 


My  health  bin  po’ly,  hut  my  appertite  bin  mighty 
good.  I bin  sorter  scratchin’  roim’  for  my  rashins, 
but  I ain’t  bin  so  fnr  but  w’at  I kin  smell  dat  big 
dinner  pot  w’at  bang  in  Miss  Sally  kitchen,  mo’ 
spesbually  on  Sundays.  Kaze  w’en  Sunday  come 
I’m  right  dar.” 

Uncle  Eemus  bad  bag  slung  across  bis  shoulder, 
and  as  be  put  it  down  be  turned  to  the  political  re- 
porter and  said : 

“Boss,  w’at  all  dish  yer  talk  I year  ’bout  poba- 
tion?” 

“Probation?  I haven’t  beard  any  talk  about 
probation.” 

“He  means  prohibition,”  said  the  temperance  re- 
porter, with  a sigh. 

“Yassir,  dat  zackly  bit.  W’at  all  dish  yer  talk 
’bout  probation?” 

“Well,  you  know  as  much  about  it  as  we  do,” 
said  the  sporting  editor.  “It  means  that  all  the 
barrooms  are  closed,  and  that  you  .can’t  get  on  a 
spree.” 

“Den  w’at  I tuck’n  fotcb  dat  ar  jug  fer?”  said  the 
old  man,  kicking  something  in  the  bag.  “How 
come  somebody  aint  tell  me  ’bout  dis  long  ’fo 
now?” 

“Well,  I can’t  say.  Haven’t  you  beard  about 
prohibition  before?” 

“Co’see  I up’n  year  Mars  John  en  Miss  SaUy 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


313 


quollin’  ’bout  pobation,  but  dey  done  get  me  so 
mixt  up  dat  I aint  know  head  from  tail.” 

^‘How  did  they  get  you  mixed  up?” 

‘‘Well,  sir,  long  at  fust  Mars  John  he  talk  up  fer 
p’obation,  en  Miss  Sally  she  ’low  dat  she  uz  ag’in’ 
it.  Dey  had  it  up  en  down.  Mars  John  ’low  dat 
all  de  licker  ought  be  o’d  out  on  de  groun’,  en 
Miss  Sally  she  ’low  dat  Mars  John ’d  feel  mighty 
bad  ef  some  er  his  po’  ’kin  ud  come  ’long  en  dey 
ain’t  no  sperrets  in  de  house  fer  ter  put  in  de  pies 
en  fixin’s.  Den,  atter  dat,  hit  seem  like  Mars  John 
change  he’  min’,  en  no  sooner  is  he  do  dat  dan 
Miss  Sally  she  up’n  change  her’n,  en  dar  day  had 
it.  Mars  John  say  de  town  gwine  ter  be  tetotally 
mint,  en  Miss  Sally  ’low  dat  ef  it  kin  be  mint  liker 
would  a mint  it  long  time  ago.” 

“And  what  do  you  think  about  it?” 

“Bless  yo’  soul,  honey!  Don’t  ax  me.  W’en 
de  w’ite  folks  git  crossways  nigger  better  lay  low.” 

“Well,  how  do  you  vote?” 

“Who,  me?  Well,  sir,  ‘fo’  voting  time  come 
Miss  Sally  she  vow  I got  to  vote  her  way,  en  she 
gimme  a big  dram,  en  den  Mars  John,  low  I got  ter 
vote  ’zactly  de  way  he  do,  en  den  he  tuck’n  gimme 
annuder  big  dram.  Den,  time  I come  down-town 
n’er  man  gimme  a dram.  I speck  I gittin’  sorter 
ole  and  fibble-minded,  kase  dem  ar  drams,  arterdey 
got  huddled  up  terge’er,  dey  make  me  so  sleepy  dat 


314 


TEE  WO  RLE  8 


I can’t  walk  straight,  en  by  de  time  I wake  up  dey 
want  no  mo’  voting  gwine  on.  Yassir,  dat’s  des 
’zactly  de  way  I voted  dat  day.” 

“Now,  then,”  said  some  one,  “what  do  you  pro- 
pose to  do  with  your  jug?”  Uncle  Eemus  smiled 
all  over  his  countenance. 

“You  all  know  dat  jug?”  he  inquired.  “Dat  ar 
jug  is  de  same  ole  ’ceitful  jug  wat  I brung  up  yer 
long  time  ago.  Dis  make  two  times  you  done  seed 
dat  jug,  but  you  ain’t  ’quainted  wid  ’er  like  I is. 
Dey  ain’t  no  tellin’  ’bout  dat  jug.  She  de  wuss 
jug  dat  ever  got  wet  on  de  inside.  She  sho’ly  is.” 

“Well,  she  can’t  be  deceitful  now,”  said  the 
temperance  reporter.  This  seemed  to  amuse  Uncle 
Kemus  immensely. 

“Who,  dat  jug?”  he  exclaimed,  “dat  ar  jug  sittin’ 
down  dar?  Honey,  you  better  let  dat  jug  ’lone. 
This  one  er  deze  yer  befo-de- War  jugs.” 

“Is  there  anything  in  it?”  the  temperance  re- 
porter asked. 

“Well,  sir,”  said  Uncle  Kemus,  picking  it  up  and 
shaking  it  close  to  his  ear,  “hit  soun’  like  dey 
sump’n  in  dar — hit  soun’  mighty  like  it.  I done 
promise  dat  jug  dat  I ain’t  gwine  to  let  nobody 
smell  er  de  stopper  less’n  hit’s  me  er  de  ole  ’oman. 
Ef  dey  ain’t  sump’n  n’er  in  dat  jog  den  she  done 
fool  me  mighty  bad.” 

“Why,  I thought  you  said  you  had  nothing  in 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


315 


it/’  said  the  temperance  reporter. 

“Who,  me?  Bless  yo’  soul,  honey!  I ain’t  say 
dat.  What  de  ole  niggar  gwine  to  say  dat  for? 
No,  sir.  I tukin  ax  you  all  gentlemens  ef  dish  yer 
is  a pobation  town,  en  you  up’n  ’low  dat  she  wer’, 
en  den  I tuck’n  ax  dat  ef  dish  yer’s  a pobation 
town  den  how  come  ole  Kemus  fer  be  totin’  dish 
yer jug?” 

The  old  man  told  his  friends  good-by,  and  as  he 
went  down-stairs  the  temperance  reporter  heard 
him  remark  to  himself : 

“Ef  dish  yer  ain’t  de  beatenes’  jug  w’at  ever  I 
seed!” — Atlanta  (Ga.)  Constitution, 


FF^ANGISGO  glZAI^f^O’S  (sAI^EEr?. 

BORN  IN  SHAME  AND  REARED  AMONG  SWINE,  HE  CONQUERS 

FAME  AND  FORTUNE  IN  PERU  WITH  THE  SWORD 

HISTORY  OF  A SELF-MADE  MAN. 


BILL  NYE. 

Perhaps  the  history  of  the  western  hemisphere 
has  never  furnished  a more  wonderful  example  of 
the  self-made  man  than  may  be  found  in  the  person 
of  Francisco  Pizarro,  a gentleman  who  came  to 
America  about  1510,  intending  to  grow  up  with 
the  country. 


I 


316 


THE  WORTHS 


Mr.  Pizarro  was  born  at  Truxillo,  Spain,  about 
1471.  His  father  was  a Spanish  colonel  of  foot 
and  his  mother  was  a peasant  girl  who  admired 
and  respected  the  dashing  colonel  very  much,  but 
felt  that  she  had  scruples  about  marriage,  and  so, 
although  years  afterward  Francisco  tried  his  best 
to  make  a match  between  his  father  and  mother, 
they  were  never  married.  It  is  said  that  this  em- 
bittered his  whole  life.  None  but  those  who  have 
experienced  it  can  fully  realize  what  it  is  to  have  a 
thankless  parent. 

Pizarro ’s  mother’s  name  was  Estramadura.  This 
tVas  her  maiden  name.  It  was  a name  whicJi 
seemed  to  harmonize  well  with  her  rich,  pickled- 
olive  complexion  and  so  she  retained  it  all  her  life. 
Her  son  did  not  have  many  early  advantages,  for 
he  was  neglected  by  his  mother  and  allowed  to 
grow  up  a swineherd,  and  it  is  even  said  that  he 
was  suckled  by  swine  in  his  infancy  while  his  giddy 
mother  joined  in  the  mad  whirl  at  the  skating-rink. 
We  can  hardly  imagine  anything  more  pitiable  than 
the  condition  of  a little  child  left  to  rustle  for 
nourishment  among  the  black-and-tan  hogs  of  Spain 
while  his  father  played  old  sledge  on  the  frontier  in 
the  regular  army  and  his  mother  stood  on  her  Span- 
ish head  and  wrote  her  cigar-box  name  in  the 
atmosphere  at  the  rink. 

Poor  little  Pizarro  had  none  of  the  modern  ad- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


817 


vantages,  therefore,  and  his  education  was  ex- 
tremely crude.  The  historian  says  that  he  grew 
up  a bold,  ignorant,  and  brutal  man.  He  came  to 
what  was  then' called  Spanish  America  at  the  age 
of  39  years  and  assisted  Mr.  Balboa  in  discovering 
the  Pacific  ocean.  Having  heard  of  the  existence 
‘of  Peru  with  all  its  wealth,  Pizarro  secured  a band 
of  self-made  men  like  himself  and  lit  out  for  that 
province  for  the  purpose  of  conquering  it  if  he 
liked  it  and  bringing  home  some  solid  silver  teapots 
and  gold-lined  card-receivers.  He  was  engaged  in 
gathering  this  line  of  goods  and  working  them  off 
on  the  pawnbroker  for  twenty-one  years,  during 
which  time  he  did  not  get  killed,  but  continued  to 
enjoy  a reasonable  degree  of  health  and  strength. 

Although  Peru  at  that  time  was  quite  densely 
populated  with  an  industrious  and  wealthy  class  of 
natives,  Pizarro  subdued  her  with  110  foot  soldiers 
armed  with  old-fashioned  muskets  that  had  these 
full-blown  barrels,  with  muzzles  on  them  like  the 
business  end  of  a tuba  horn,  sixty-seven  mounted 
men,  and  two  toy  cannon  loaded  with  carpet-tacks. 
With  no  education,  and,  what  was  still  harder  to 
bear,  the  inner  consciousness  that  his  parents  were 
plain,  common,  every-day  people  whose  position  in 
life  would  not  advance  him  in  the  estimation  of  the 
Peruvians,  he  battled  on.  His  efforts  were  crowned 
with  success,  insomuch  that  at  the  close  of  the 


THE  WORTHS 


year  1532  peace  was  declared  and  lie  could  breathe 
the  free  air  once  more  without  fear  of  getting  a 
bronze  arrow-head  mixed  up  with  his  kidneys  when 
his  back  was  turned.  “For  the  first  time  in  two 
years/’  says  the  historian,  “Pizarro  was  able  to 
take  off  his  tin  helmet  and  his  sheet-iron  corset  at 
night  when  he  lay  down  to  rest,  or  undismayed  to 
go  forth  bareheaded  and  wearing  only  his  crinkled 
seersucker  coat  and  a pair  of  sandals  at  the  twi- 
light hour  and  till  midnight  wander  alone  amid  the 
famous  guano  groves  of  Peru.” 

Such  is  the  history  of  a man  who  never  even 
knew  how  to  write  his  own  name.  He  won  fame 
for  himself  and  great  wealth  without  an  education 
01  a long,  dark-blue  lineage.  Pizarro  was  like  Job. 
You  know,  we  sometimes  sing: 

Oh,  Job,  he  was  a fine  young  lad, 

Sing  glory  hallelujah. 

His  heart  was  good  but  his  blood  was  bad, 
Sing  glory  hallelujah. 

So  Pizarro  could  not  brag  on  his  blood  and  his 
education  was  not  classical.  He  could  not  write 
his  name,  though  he  tried  faithfully  for  many  years. 
Day  after  day  during  the  campaign,  and  late  into 
the  night,  when  the  yaller  dogs  of  Lima  came  forth 
with  their  Peruvian  bark,  he  would  get  his 
orderly  sergeant  to  set  him  the  copy : 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


819 


“Paul  may  plant  and  Apollinaris  water,  but  it  is 
God  that  giveth  the  increase.” 

Then  Pizarro  would  bring  out  his  writing  mate- 
rial and  his  tongue  and  try  to  write,  but  he  never 
could  do  it.  His  was  not  a studious  mind.  It  was 
more  on  the  knock-down-and-drag-out  order. 

Pizarro  was  made  a marquis  in  after  years.  He 
was  also  made  a corpse.  He  acquired  the  latter 
position  toward  the  close  of  his  life.  He,  at  one 
time,  married  the  inca’s  daughter  and  founded  a long 
line  of  grandees,  marquises,  and  macaroni  sculptors, 
whoso  names  may  be  found  on  the  covers  of  im- 
ported cigar  boxes  and  in  the  topmost  tier  of  the 
wrought-iron  resorts  in  our  best  penitentiaries. 

Pizarro  lived  a very  busy  life  during  the  conquest, 
some  days  killing  as  many  as  seventy  and  eighty 
Peruvians  between  sun  and  sun.  But  death  at 
last  crooked  his  finger  at  the  marquis  and  he  slept. 
We  all  brag  and  blow  our  horn  here  for  a few  brief 
years,  it  is  true,  but  when  the  grim  reaper  with  his 
new  and  automatic  twine-binder  comes  along  he 
gathers  us  in;  the  weak  and  the  strong,  the  igno- 
rant and  the  educated,  the  plain  and  the  beautiful, 
the  young  and  the  old,  those  who  have  just  sniffed 
the  sweet  and  dew-laden  air  of  life’s  morning  and 
those  who  are  footsore  and  weary  and  waiting — all 
alike  must  bow  low  to  the  sickle  that  goes  on  cut- 
ting closer  and  closer  to  us  even  when  we  sleep. 


320 


THE  WORLD'S 


Had  Pizarro  thought  more  about  this  matter  he 
would  have  been  ahe^.^o^lay. 


Bothbi^ing  a BOASIHEF^. 

Talking  about  swagger,  too  much  of  this  commo- 
dity has  lately  brought  to  grief  a certain  member  of 
a well-known  good  third-rate  London  club.  This 
gentleman  is  not  only  a confirmed  tuft  hunter,” 
but  one  who,  so  far  from  admitting  that  any  mem- 
ber of  the  “upper  ten”  could  by  any  accident  be 
unknow  to  him,  is  always  ready  to  boast  of  close 
and  intimate  friendship  with  everyone  who  happens' 
to  have  either  rank  or  position.  His  failing  is  no- 
torious; and  three  humorists  determined  to  give 
him  a lesson.  Accordingly,  in  the  club  billiard- 
room,  one  of  their  number,  Mr.  C.,  casually  said: 

“Are  you  going  to  Lady  L ’s  tonight?”  “No,” 

replied  the  victim;  “her  ladyship  will  never  forgive 
me;  but  the  fact  is  I’m  fagged  out,  and  good  people 
are  scarce,  I think.”  “Quite  right;  I’ll  make  your 
.apologies,”  said  Mr  C. 

Aghast  at  this  unlooked  for  proposition,  but  un- 
able now  to  retreat  from  the  position  he  had  taken 
up,  the  only  rejoinder  of  Mr.  J.  was  a feeble 
“Thanks;  I wish  you  would.”  Half  an  hour  later, 
just  as  the  trio  were  about  to  leave  the  club,  un- 
happy Mr.  J.  drew  Mr.  C.  aside,  and  after  some 


tfSRAUr 
OF  THE 

OifivERsiTy  Of  lun'ois 


A GOOD  REASON. 


P.  321. 


wrr  AND  WITS. 


321 


beating  about  the  bush,  was  at  last  obliged  to  con- 
fess that  he  did  not  know  Lady  L.,  and  begged  Mr. 
C.  not  to  mention  his  name  to  her.  “All  right,” 
said  his  triumphant  tormentor.  “I  won’t;  you 
may  depend  upon  that,  for  I don’t  happen  to  know 
her  myself ! ’ ’ — Quiz. 


Good  I^bason. 

German  (to  barkeeper) — “Say,  Herman,  how  vas 
dot?” 

Herman — “How  vas  vot?” 

“Vy,  ven  you  keeb  der  blace  down  on  der  gorner, 
vy,  efry  time  I de  saloon  come  in  you  say,  'Come 
haf  glass  beer,’  und  now,  since  you  gum  ub  hier, 
you  neber  say  'Haf  glass  beer.’  How  vas  dot  no- 
how?” 

“Yell,  I dells  you  how  dot  vas.  Ven  I vas  down 
on  der  gorner  I vas  vorking  for  Meester  Smidt.” 

“Yah.” 

“Und  de  beer  vot  I gif  me  avay  gost  me  nud- 
dings.” 

“Yah.” 

“But  now,  I owns  dis  blace  und  de  beer  vat  I gifs 
ervay  gost  me  somedings.  Dot  vas  de  vay.  If  you 
bring  somebody  else’s  beer  my  house  in  I gif  you 
all  of  it  you  vant.” — Arhansaiu  Traveler. 


21 


322 


THE  WORTHS 


p Sgientipig  nOiPE. 

“I  lived  in  San  Francisco  before  the  War,”  ob- 
served a returned  Californian  at  the  last  Scientific 
Association  meeting,  “when  the  coast  was  suffering 
from  a great  many  earthquakes.  I once  dug  a well 
in  clayey  soil  seventy-five  feet  deep  and  had  just 
begun  walling  it  in  from  the  top  when  there  was  an 
internal  upheaval  on  night.  The  next  morning  I 
was  surprised  to  find  my  narrow  belt  of  stone  sev- 
enty-five feet  above  the  surface  with  the  rest  of  the 
hole  continuing  down  to  the  ground.” 

“What  did  you  do?”  asked  the  President  in  as- 
tonishment. 

“I  set  workmen  to  walling  up  the  rest  of  it,  work- 
ing around  the  hole  from  the  top  down.” 

“Then  what?”  inquired  the  President  with  even 
more  surprise. 

“I  sold  it  to  a man  for  $2,000,  who  built  a fac- 
tory next  to  it,  and  he  used  it  for  a chimney.” 


One  op  Lcingoln’s  ^Imusing  Illusti^ations. 

One  of  Mr.  Lincoln’s  illustrations  given  by  him 
on  one  occasion  was  that  of  a man  who,  in  driving 
the  hoops  of  a hogshead  to  “head”  it  up,  was  much 
annoyed  by  the  constant  falling  in  of  the  top.  At 
length  the  bright  idea  struck  him  of  putting  his 
little  boy  inside  to  “hold  it  up.”  This  he  did;  it 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


323 


never  occurring  to  him  till  the  job  was  done,  how 
he  was  to  get  his  child  out.  “This,”  said  Lincoln, 
“is  a fair  sample  of  the  way  some  'peo'ple  aliuays  do 
business  T 


U3HY  the  flUDIENGE  SMILED. 

“If  I ever  get  married  in  a church  again  you  can 
call  me  a goat,”  said  a bashful  man  the  other  day. 

“What’s  the  matter  now?” 

“Matter  enough,”  he  retorted,  and  he  seemed  to 
get  mad  as  he  thought  of  it.  “I  was  married  not 
long  ago,  and  as  my  wife’s  parents  were  pillars  of 
the  church  it  had  to  come  off  there,  so  they 
thought.  Well,  some  repairs  were  being  made  in 
the  church,  so  the  marriage  took  place  in  the  Sun- 
day-school room.  There’s  where  the  whole  trouble 
came  in.  We  stood  on  the  platform  where  the 
Superintendent’s  desk  stood,  and  before  the  minis- 
ter got  started  I noticed  a great  many  people  smil- 
ing in  the  audience.  I didn’t  know  what  to  make 
of  it.  They  all  seemed  to  be  looking  over  my  head. 
I never  said  anything  till  the  thing  was  done ; then 
I turned  around  and  looked  up.  What  do  you 
think  I saw?  One  of  those  confounded  mottoes 
hanging  right  over  our  heads,  and  it  said:  ‘Suffer 
Little  Children  to  Come  Unto  Me.’  Isn’t  that 
enough  to  make  a man  mad?” 


324 


THE  WORLDS S 


pN  UNPOr^TUNAiTE  fflAN. 

[CHICAGO  EAMBLER.] 

De  Jinks  always  wanted  to  say  the  right  thing, 
but  somehow  he  never  could.  He  had  been  spend- 
ing a couple  of  weeks  in  a Wisconsin  town,  and  on 
the  evening  set  for  his  departure  met  Miss  De 
Vercy,  a very  pretty  young  lady,  to  whom  he  had 
been  introduced  when  first  he  arrived  in  the  place. 

‘‘And  are  you  going  to-night,  Mr.  De  Jinks?”  she 
said.  “I’m  so  sorry  we  haven’t  seen  more  of  you 
during  your  stay.” 

“Pray,  .don’t  mention  it,”  he  returned,  with  an 
excess  of  gallantry.  “Indeed  it  has  been  all  my 
fault.  Miss  De  Vercy.” 

A few  moments  later  he  saw  his  mistake,  but 
could  find  no  chance  to  atone  for  it,  until,  as  he 
was  about  to  leave  for  the  depot,  one  of  his  friends 
suggested : 

“You  haven’t  said  ‘Good-bye’  to  Miss  De  Vercy, 
have  you?” 

Here  was  a chance  that  was  not  to  be  lost. 
Turning  to  the  fair  damsel,  with  his  sweetest  and 
gracious  smile,  he  said: 

“Indeed  I have,  old  boy.  I had  the  pleasure  of 
saying  ‘Good-bye’  to  Miss  De  Vercy  first  of  all.” 

And  then  he  went  his  way,  believing  he  had 
“done  himself  proud.” 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


825 


r)ow  She  Flauijpbnbd  r)iM. 

It  was  a noonday  car  up  Michigan  avenue.  It 
was  hot.  It  was  boiling,  roasting  hot.  The  driver 
had  rivulets  of  perspiration  running  down  his  face 
as  the  sun  hit  him  plumb-center,  and  the  conduc- 
tor mopped  and  growled  and  fingered  the  nickels 
with  wet  fingers  in  the  shade  of  the  rear  platform. 
Opposite  each  other,  on  the  last  seats  back,  were  a 
middle-aged  woman  who  sat  up  as  stiff  as  a poker 
and  looked  as  cool  as  ice,  and  a corpulent,  red-faced 
man,  who  unbuttoned  coat  and  vest  and  collar,  and 
puffed  away  like  a porpoise. 

“Ever  see  the.  like?”  he  queried,  as  he  looked 
across  at  the  woman  and  fanned  himself  with  his 
hat. 

She  regarded  him  with  a look  of  disdain. 

Never  saw  anything  like  it,  even  in  the  trop- 
ics!” he  gasped. 

Her  glance  this  time  was  five  degrees  below 
zero. 

‘‘Awful — just  positively  awful!  Another  sueh 
day  as  this  will  use  up  a thousand  people.  You 
must  be  suffering,  too.” 

She  gave  him  a look  hung  all  around  with  ici- 
cles, and  then  beckoned  to  the  conductor. 

“Sir,”  she  said,  as  that  official  entered,  “when 
did  they  remove  the  stove  from  this  car?” 


326 


THE  WORTHS 


‘‘Several  weeks  ago,  madam.” 

“How  reckless!  Please  close  the  window  be-' 
hind  me,  and  do  for  mercy’s  sake  keep  that  door 
shut.  I’m  just  shivering  with  the  cold  and  have 
no  shawl  with  me.” 

Then  she  looked  a whole  iceberg  at  the  man  op- 
posite, shivered  her  shoulders  two  or  three  times, 
and  cuddled  down  in  the  corner  to  keep  warm.  He 
looked  at  her  for  a minute  in  a dubious  way,  and 
then  buttoned  up  coat  and  vest,  jammed  on  his 
hat,  and  softly  sneaked  out  and  boosted  himself 
upon  the  railing  to  finish  his  ride  in  the  deepest 
silence. — Detroit  Free  Press. 


F^BI^  gAPA  ©OMBS  IN. 

A Boston  minister  has  a bright  little  4-year-old 
daughter  whose  sayings  are  often  worth  repeating. 
One  morning  at  breakfast  he  asked  across  the 
table : 

“Edie,  whom  do  you  love  best?’^ 

“Mamma,”  answered  the  little  one. 

“Whom  next?” 

“Aunt  Helen.” 

“Whom  next?” 

“Bridget.” 

And  the  disappointed  father  continued  his  ques- 
tions until  the  young  maiden  had  declared  her 


WIT  AND  WITS. 

affection  for  most  of  the  neighborhood  without 
mentioning  any  love  for  her  father.  Finally  the 
clergyman  said: 

“But,  Edie,  where  does  papa  come  in?” 

The  httle  maid  paused  a moment,’  looked  coyly 
up,  and  then  replied  demurely:  “In  the  front 
door.” — Boston  Becord. 

fflASTEI^. 

BUKDETTE. 

The  breath  of  June  with  sweet  perfume 
Came  stealing  through  the  open  door. 

And  restless  shadows  in  the  room 

Played  with  the  sunbeams  on  the  floor. 

The  buzzing  voices  croon  and  drone. 

And  laugh  aloud  in  willful  way ; 

The  old  schoolmaster  on  his  throne 

Sleeps  soundly  on  that  sweet  June  day. 

Away  from  noisy  schools  his  dreams 

Have  swept  him  back  through  paths  of  light 

By  dimpling  mead  and  rippling  streams. 

To  childhood’s  home  and  morning  bright. 

Soft,  soft  he  sleeps,  schoolmaster  wise, 

With  one  eye  open  just  a crack ; 

So  just  in  time  he  grabs  Bill  Blyes, 

And  makes  the  dust  fly  from  his  back. 


328 


THE  W0RLH8 


r^o  Massing  ^him. 

Miss  Birdie  McGinnis  is  one  of  the  most  con- 
firmed flirts  in  Austin.  She  has  been  engaged  to 
half  a dozen  men,  and  thus  far  has  never  married 
any  of  them. 

Of  late  Tom  Anjerry,  a dissipated  student  of  the 
University  of  Texas,  has  been  paying  Miss  Birdie 
marked  attention.  A few  evenings  ago,  being  in  a 
secluded  place  with  her,  he  flopped  down  on  his 
knees  and  remarked  in  an  agonized  tone  of  voice : 

“Miss  Birdie,  I adore  you!” 

“I  can’t  believe  you,”  replied  Bii’die;  “you  men 
are  so  fickle  and  unreliable.  Your  so-called  love  is 
a mere  passing  whim.” 

“0,  no,”  said  Tom,  “my  love  for  you  is  greater 
than  that  of  your  four  last  fellows  put  together.” — 
Texas  Siftings. 


©AIjISTHENIGS. 

“Mary  Ann!  Phwat’s  that  trill-le-la-loo  non- 
sense yer  jiggin’  away  at  in  thayre  I want  to  know? 
Put  down  that  fut!”  “Don’t  bother  me  now;  it’s 
practicing  me  calisthenics  I am.”  “Cahsthenics, 
is  it?  Is  that  what  ye  learn  at  the  seminneries? 
Calisthenics,  ah  ha!  Lapin’  around  on  the  wan 
fut  wid  your  toes  toorned  in?  Well,  do  yez  calis- 
thenic  around  here  to  the  toob  and  warrm  the  j’ints 


FOUR-PLY  LOVE. 


P.  32S. 


lliilYEKi 


f'f  THE 

Of 


^YIT  AND  WITS, 


329 


av  yez  elbows  be  roobin’  the  diirt  out  ov  these  hick- 
ory shirts  an’  overalls,  or  I’ll  tache  yez  a fancy 
step  wid  de  broom  that’ll  make  yez  raise  the  two 
feet  av  yez  higher  than  the  spine  o’  yer  back,  wid 
no  more  effort  than  the  howl  ye’ll  set  up  for  ’em  to 
catch  on.  Calisthenics,  ha!  I’ll  have  no  more  of 
this  jig-jaggin’  around  like  a hin  an  a stove-lid. 
The  foorst  thing  ye  know  it’s  joinin’  the  bally  ye’ll 
be,  an’  be  spendin’  all  yer  money  for  clothes  an’ 
wearin’  none  of  ’em.  Calisthenics,  0 ho!” 

— Brooklyn  Eagle. 

liINGOLN  (JOKING  DOUGLA^^^'-  SpL^NDID 

On  one  occasion,  when  Lincoln  and  Douglas 
were  “stumping”  the  State  of  Illinois  together  as 
political  opponents,  Douglas,  who  had  the  first 
speech,  remarked  that  in  early  life,  his  father,  who 
he  said  was  an  excellent  cooper  by  trade,  appren- 
ticed him  out  to  learn  the  cabinet  business. 

This  was  too  good  for  Lincoln  to  let  pass,  so 
when  his  turn  came  to  reply,  he  said : 

“I  had  understood  before  that  Mr.  Douglas  had 
been  bound  out  to  learn  the  cabinet-making  busi- 
ness, which  is  all  well  enough,  but  I was  not  aware 
until  now  that  his  father  was  a cooper.  I have  no 
doubt,  however,  that  he  was  one,  and  I am  certain. 


330 


THE  WORLD'' S 


also,  that  he  was  a very  good  one,  for  (here  Lincoln 
gently  bowed  toward  Douglas)  he  has  made  one  of 
the  best  luhishj  cashs  I have  ever  seenE 

As  Douglas  was  a short  heavy-set  man,  and  oc- 
casionally imbibed,  the  pith  of  the  joke  was  at  once 
apparent,  and  most  heartily  enjoyed  by  all. 

On  another  occasion,  Douglas  in  one  of  his 
speeches,  made  a strong  point  against  Lincoln  by 
telling  the  crowd  that  when  he  first  knew  Mr.  Lin- 
coln he  was  a “groceiy-keeper,”  and  sold  whisky, 
cigars,  etc.  “Mr.  L.,”  he  said,  “was  a very  good 
bar-tender!''  This  brought  the  laugh  on  Lincoln, 
whose  reply,  however,  soon  came,  and  then  the 
laugh  was  on  the  other  side. 

“What  Mr.  Douglas  has  said,  gentlemen, ’’replied 
Mr.  Lincoln,  “is  true  enough ; I did  keep  a grocery 
and  I did  sell  cotton,  candles,  and  cigars,  and 
sometimes  whisky;  but  I remember  in  those  days 
that  Mr.  Douglas  was  one  of  my  best  customers ! 

“Many  a time  have  I stood  on  one  side  of  the 
counter  and  sold  whisky  to  Douglas  on  the  other 
side,  but  the  difference  between  us  now  is  this:  I 
have  left  my  side  of  the  counter,  but  Mr.  Douglas 
still  sticks  to  his  as  tenaciously  as  ever!” 

©HAT  Dooi^-Spf^ing. 

He  shd  quietly  into  a Jefferson  avenue  hardware 
store  yesterday  forenoon,  unrolled  a paper  on  the 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


331 


counter,  and  as  he  held  up  a patent  door-spring  he 
said : “I  buy  him  two  days  ago,  and  I like  to  ex- 
change him  for  a whetstone.” 

“What’s  the  matter?” 

“Vhell,  I can’t  make  him  fit  on  my  screen  door.” 

“Why,  that’s  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world.  See 
here : This  end  screws  on  the  door,  and  that  end  on 
the  casing.” 

“I  tried  him  dot  vhay  und  he  doan’  work.” 

“When  it  is  on  you  take  this  metal  pin  and  turn 
the  spring.  See  the  holes  there?” 

“I  does  dot  vhay,  and  my  screen  door  flies  open.” 

“You  turned  the  wrong  way.” 

“I  turns  him  eafery  way.  Sometimes  der  door 
vhas  wide  open,  und  all  der  flies  in  Michigan  go  in, 
und  sometimes  he  vhas  shut  oop  so  tight  I can’t 
get  in  my  own  house.  I begin  on  him  in  der  morn- 
ing, und  I doan’  leave  off  till  night,  but  he  won’t 
work  right.” 

“That’s  curious.  What  tools  did  you  have?” 

“I  used  a hammer  und  screw  drifer  und  cold- 
shisel  und  saw  und  augur  und  crowbar  und  lots  of 
more,  but  he  doan’  spring  for  me.  My  wife  works 
at  him,  too,  and  my  hired  man  he  loose  half  a day, 
und  I was  discouraged.  I guess  I trade  him  for  a 
whetstone.” 

“Well,  I’ll  exchange  with  you,  but  I’m  sure  lean 
show  you  how  to  adjust  it.” 


332 


THE  WORTHS 


“I  guess  I doan’  try  any  more.  You  see,  my  life 
vhas  short,  und  I can’t  spare  so  mooch  time  mit 
machinery.  If  I get  a whetstone  I doan’  haf  to 
screw  him  on  nor  turn  him  round.  Dere  vhas  no 
-pins  or  ratchets  in  his  stomach.  He  vhas  all  right 
both  ends  oop.  Maybe  he  doan’  keep  oudt  flies  but 
he  makes  no  trouble  for  me.” 

The  exchange  was  made  and  the  man  went  away 
light-hearted,  calling  back  from  the  door : 

‘T  can  make  oudt  a whetstone  all  right,  und  I 
vhas  obliged  mit  you.  A whetstone  winds  oop  only 
one  vhay.” — Detroit  Free  Dress. 


fflETHUSEIiAH. 

A EECENT  BIOGEAPHICAL  NOTICE  OF  THIS  GEAND  OLD  MAN 
A SLAVE  TO  TOBACCO. 

BILL  NYE. 

I have  just  been  reading  James  Whitcomb  Eiley’s 
response  to  “the  old  man”  at  the  annual  dinner  of 
the  Indianapolis  Literary  club,  and  his  reference  to 
Methuselah  has  awakened  in  my  mind  many  recol- 
lections and  reminiscences  of  that  grand  old 
man.  WY  first  meet  Methuselah  in  the  capacity  of 
a son.  iVt  the  age  of  65,  Enoch  arose  one  night 
and  telephoned  his  family  physician  to  come  over 
and  assist  him  in  meeting  Methuselah.  Day  at  last 


EfJOC.H  TELEPyONED  HIS  FAMILY  PHYSICIAN 


P-  332. 


'V  A 


t^ofm^fT/onuirots 


^X1T  AND  ^¥1T8. 


333 


dawned  upon  Enoch’s  happy  home,  and  its  first  red 
rays  lit  up  the'  still  redder  surface  of  the  little  stran- 
ger. For  three  hundred  years  Enoch  and  Methu- 
selah jogged  along  together  in  the  capacity  of  father 
and  son.  Then  Enoch  was  suddenly  cut  down.  It 
was  at  this  time  that  little  Methuselah  first  realized 
what  it  was  to  be  an  orphan.  He  could  not  at  first 
realize  that  his  father  was  dead.  He  could  not 
understand  why  Enoch,  with  no  inherited  disease, 
should  be  shuffied  out  at  the  age  of  365  years. 
But  the  doctor  said  to  Methuselah:  “My  son,  you 
are  indeed  fatherless.  I ham^one  all  I could,  but 
it  is  useless.  I had  tokE^noch  manj  a time  that 
if  he  went  in  swirnffin^-  Before  the  ice  was  out  of 
the  creek  it  would  finally  down  him,  hut  he  thouglit 
he  knew  better  than  I did.  He  was  a headstrong 
man,  Enoch  was.  He  sneered  at  me  and  alluded 
to  me  as  a fresh  young  gosling,  because  he  was 
300  years  older  than  I was.  He  has  received 
the  reward  of  the  willful,  and  verily  the  doom  of 
the  smart  Aleck  is  his.” 

Methuselah  now  cast  about  him  for  some  occu- 
pation wTiich  would  take  up  his  attention  and  as- 
suage his  wild,  passionate  grief  over  the  loss  of  his 
father.  He  entered  into  the  walks  of  men  and 
learned  their  ways.  It  was  at  this  time  that  he 
learned  the  pernicious  habit  of  using  tobacco.  We 
can  not  wonder  at  it  when  we  remember  that  he 


334 


THE  WOBLD^S 


was  now  fatherless.  He  was  at  the  mercy  of  the 
coarse,  rough  world.  Possibly  he  learned  to  use 
tobacco  when  he  went  away  to  attend  business  col- 
ledge  after  the  death  of  his  father.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  noxious  weed  certainly  hastened  his  death, 
for  600  years  after  this  vre  find  him  a corpse ! 

Death  is  ever  a surprise,  even  at  the  end  of  u long 
illness  and  after  a ripe  old  age.  To  those  who  are 
near  it  seems  abrupt;  so  to  his  grand  children  some 
of  whom  survived  him,  his  children  having  died  of 
old  age,  the  death  of  Methuselah  came  like  a thun- 
derbolt from  a clear  sky. 

Methuselah  succeeded  in  cording  up  more  of  a 
record  such  as  it  was,  than  any  other  man  of  whom 
history  informs  us.  Time,  the  tomb-builder  and 
amateur  mower,  came  and  leaned  over  the  front 
fence  and  looked  at  Methuselah,  and  ran  his  thumb 
over  the  jagge<l  edge  of  his  scythe,  and  went  away 
whistling  a low  refrain.  He  kept  up  this  refrain 
business  for  nearly  ten  centuries,  while  Methuselah 
continued  to  stand  out  amid  the  general  wreck  of 
men  and  nations. 

Even  as  the  young,  strong  mower  going  forth 
with  his  mower  to  mow  spareth  the  tall  and  dig- 
nified drab  hornet’s  nests  and  passeth  by  on  the 
other  side,  so  time,  with  his  Waterhury  hour-glass 
and  his  overworked  hay-knife  over  his  shoulder, 
and  his  long  Mormon  whiskers  and  his  high,  sleek 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


335 


dome  of  thought,  with  its  gray  lambrequin  of  hair 
around  the  base  of  it,  mowed  all  around  Methuse- 
lah and  then  passed  on. 

Methuselah  decorated  the  graves  of  those  who 
perished  in  a dozen  different  wars.  He  did  not 
enlist  himself,  for  over  nine  hundred  years  of  his 
life  he  was  exempt.  He  would  go  to  the  enlisting 
place  and  offer  his  services,  and  the  officer  would 
tell  him  to  go  home  and  encourage  his  grand- 
children to  go.  Then  Methuselah  would  sit  around 
Noah’s  steps,  and  smoke  and  criticise  the  conduct 
of  the  war,  also  the  conduct  of  the  enemy. 

It  is  said  of  Methuselah  that  he  never  was  the 
same  man  after  his  son  Lamech  died.  He  was 
greatly  attached  to  Lamech,  and  when  he  woke  up 
one  night  to  find  his  son  purple  in  the  face  with 
membraneous  croup  he  could  hardly  realize  that  he 
might  lose  him.  The  idea  of  losing  a boy  who  had 
just  rounded  the  glorious  morn  of  his  777th  year 
had  never  occurred  to  him.  But  death  loves  a 
shining  mark,  and  he  garnered  little  Lammie  and 
left  Methuselah  to  moan  and  mourn  on  for  a couple 
more  centuries  without  him. 

Methuselah  finally  got  so  that  he  couldn’t  sleep 
after  4 o’clock  in  the  morning,  and  he  didn’t  see 
how  anyone  else  could.  The  older  he  got  and  the 
less  valuable  his  time  became  the  earlier  he  would 
rise,  so  that  he  could  get  an  early  start.  As  the 


336 


THE  WORTHS 


centuries  filed  slowly  by  Methuselah  got  where  all 
he  had  to  do  was  to  shuffle  into  his  loose-fitting 
clothes,  and  rest  his  gums  on  the  top  of  a large 
sleek-headed  cane,  and  mutter  up  the  chimney, 
and  then  groan  and  extricate  himself  from  his 
clothes  again  and  retire.  He  arose  earlier  and 
earlier  in  the  morning,  and  muttered  more  and 
more  about  the  young  folks  sleeping  away  the  best 
of  the  day,  and  said  he  had  no  doubt  that  sleeping 
and  snoring  until  breakfast  time  helped  to  carry  off 
Lam.  But  one  day  old  Father  Time  came  along 
with  a new  scythe,  and  he  drew  the  whetstone 
across  it  a few  times  and  rolled  the  sleeves  of  his 
red  flannel  undergarment  up  over  his  warty  elbows, 
and  Mr.  Methuselah  passed  on  to  that  undis- 
covered country  with  a ripe  experience  and  a long, 
clean  record. 

We  can  almost  fancy  how  the  physicians,  who 
had  disagreed  about  his  case  all  the  way  through, 
came  and  insisted  on  a post-mortem  examination 
to  prove  which  was  right,  and  what  was  really  the 
matter  with  him.  We  can  imagine  how  people 
went  by  shaking  their  heads  and  regretting  that 
Methuselah  shoul#;i'srfe  tampered  with  tobacco 
when  he  knew  it.affected  his  l^eart. 

But  he  is  gone.*  He  hved  to  see  his  own  promis- 
sory notes  rise,  flourish,  acquire  interest,  pine  away 
at  last,  and  finally  outlaw.  He  acquired  a large 


tfSRAW 
Of  THE 

UiHVERilTY  Of  ItLIHOIS 


WHY  HE  WANTED  THE  BOOT. 


P-  337- 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


337 


farm  in  the  very  heart  of  the  county-seat,  and  re- 
fused to  move  or  to  plot  it  and  call  it  Methuselah’s 
addition.  He  came  out  in  spring  regularly  for 
nine  hundred  years  after  he  got  too  old  to  work 
out  his  poll-tax  on  the  road  and  put  in  his  time 
telling  the  rising  generation  how  to  make  a good 
road.  Meantime  other  old  people,  who  were  almost 
100  years  of  age,  moved  away  and  went  west, 
where  they  would  attract  attention  and  command 
respect.  There  was  actually  no  pleasure  in  getting 
old  around  where  Methuselah  was  and  being  or- 
dered about  and  scolded  and  kept  in  the  back- 
ground by  him. 

So  when  at  last  he  died  people  sighed  and  said : 
“Well,  it  was  better  for  him  to  die  before  he  got 
childish.  It  was  best  that  he  should  die  at  a time 
when  he  knew  it  all.  We  can’t  help  thinking  what 
an  acquisition  Methuselah  will  be  on  the  evergreen 
shore  when  he  gets  there,  with  all  his  ripe  experi- 
ence and  habits  of  early  rising.” 

And  the  next  morning  after  the  funeral  Methu- 
selah’s family  did  not  get  out  of  bed  till  9 o’clock. 


^HY  THE  BOOT. 

Little  Coon  (picking  up  a hoot):  ‘^Say,  mistah, 
kin  I’s  hah  dis  ole  sho’?” 


22 


.^38 


THE 


Farmer  (eyeing  him  snspicioiisly) : “What  du 
yer  want  it  fer?” 

Little  Coon  (giving  the  whole  thing  away) : “De 
ole  man  wnz  ’round  h’yar  las’  night  an’  ’jus’  ’ud 
time  ter  git  de  one  sho’  w’en  de  dorg  got  luse;  so 
he  sen’  me  ober  ter  git  de  oder,  es  it’s  oh  no  ’count 
ter  yu’.” — Enck. 


fl  Legend  op  ^phe  ©i^usades. 

“One  of  my  ancestors  won  a battle  during  the 
crusades  by  his  skill  in  handling  his  artillery,”  said 
the  baron. 

“But,  my  dear  baron,”  said  his  friend,  “at  the 
time  of  the  crusades  gunpowder  had  not  yet  been 
discovered.” 

“I  know  that  as  well  as  you  do,  and  so  did  my 
ancestor.” 

“How  did  he  win  the  battle  then?” 

“He  brought  his  artillery  to  bear  on  the  Sara- 
cens, and  the  stupid  fools  seeing  the  guns,  sup- 
posed that  powder  had  at  last  been  discovered,  and 
fled  in  dismay.” — Texas  Siftings. 


©HE  ©f^ISONEI^’S  FJEQUESIT. 

Judge — Prisoner  at  the  bar,  you  have  been  found 
guilty  of  grand  larceny.  Have  you  anything  to 
&Qy  before  sentence  is  pronounced? 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


339 


Prisoner — Only  a few  words,  your  honor.  I can 
see  it  in  your  eyes  that  I’m  going  to  get  the  ex- 
treme penalty.  I don’t  object  to  that,  but  I do 
object  to  standing  up  here  and  suffering  a long- 
winded  lecture  from  you.  Therefore  I ask  that  my 
counsel  be  mercifully  permitted  to  give  me  chloro- 
form before  you  begin. 


©HEY  DIDN’iP  fflATGH.  * 

“I  thay,  old  chappie,  can  you  let  me  have  your 
horse  to  dwive  in  my  dwag  this  aftahnoon?” 

“Why,  of  course.  But  why  not  drive  your  own?” 

“My  dear  boy,  I’m  going  to  take  Miss  Dwesser 
dwiving,  and  she  always  weahs  that  deuced  wed 
dwess.  My  horse  is  ecwu  y’  know,  and  they 
don’t  match. — The  Bamhler, 


IlINGOLN  AND  JPHE  BlJIupiiE  BOY. 

During  a visit  to  Chicago  soon  after  his  nom- 
ination, and  while  giving  a reception  at  one  of  the 
hotels,  a fond  father  took  in  a little  boy  by  the 
hand  who  was  anxious  to  see  the  new  President. 
The  moment  the  child  entered  the  parlor  door  he, 
of  his  own  accord  and  quite  to  the  surprise  of  his 
father,  took  off  his  hat,  and,  giving  it  a swing,  cried : 
“Hurrah  for  Lincoln!”  There  was  a crowd,  but 


340 


THE  WORTHS 


as  soon  as  Mr.  Lincoln  could  get  hold  of  the  little 
fellow,  he  lifted  him  in  his  hand,  and,  tossing  him 
towards  the  ceiling,  laughingly  shouted:  “Hurrah 
for  you!” 

It  was  evid^ni^^^efreshingjjincident  to  Lincoln 
in  the  dreary  work  of  hand-shaking. 


©HE  RIGI^LBNESS  op  FAMB. 

Street  Urchin  (to  a companion) — I tell  yer, 
Patsy,  who’s  der  best  perliceman  on  der  force.  He’s 
der  boss. 

Patsy — An’  who’s  dat? 

Street  Urchin — I forget  what’s  his  name.  He 
isn’t  on  now;  he’s  been  discharged. 


Billing  to  ©ui^n  I7EF^  ©oat. 

A Western  Michigan  wool  buyer  who  was  circu- 
lating among  farmers  to  engage  their  clips  met 
with  one  who  was  inclined  to  look  upon  the  matter 
as  a kind  of  gambling  affair. 

“You  agree  to  buy  my  wool  for  so  much  a month 
in  advance  of  shearing,”  said  he.  “How  do  you 
know  that  wool  won’t  go  up  or  down?  The  price 
may  be  too  much  or  not  enough.  It  looks  like 
flying  in  the  face  of  Providence.”  After  a long 
argument  he  agreed  to  leave  it  to  his  wife,  and  she 
replied : 


tlBRMir 

. OF  THE 
UHlVERsiry  OF  ftllHOfS 


“ I HAVE  ONLY  EATEN  A COUPLE  OF  VERY  DISTANT  RELATIVES.”  P.  34I. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


341 


“Look  a-here,  Samuel,  I’m  just  as  good  a Baptist 
as  you  are,  and  if  there  is  anything  in  our  religion 
which  says  we  shan’t  take  28  cents  a pound  for 
our  wool  when  we  didn’t  expect  above  25,  we’ll 
accept  the  offer  on  the  wool  and  flop  over  to  the 
Methodists.” 


fl  iMPf^OVEMENT. 

Missionary  (to  newly  converted  chief  of  a canni- 
bal tribe — Well,  Luke,  how  about  cannibalism? 
Four  weeks  ago  you  slaughtered  your  father ; have 
you  not  improved  since  ? 

Cannibal — Yes,  indeed,  my  teacher;  since  then 
I have  only  eaten  a couple  of  very  distant  rela- 
tives.— Fliegende  Blatter. 


lilNGOLN  AND  HEW  F?AT. 

Mr.  G.  B.  Lincoln  tells  of  an  amusing  circum- 
stance which  took  place  at  Springfield  soon  after 
Mr.  Lincoln’s  nomination  in  1860.  A hatter  in 
Brooklyn  secretly  obtained  the  size  of  the  future 
President’s  head,  and  made  for  him  a very  elegant 
hat,  which  he  sent  by  his  townsman,  Lincoln,  to 
Springfield.  About  the  time  it  was  presented, 
various  other  testimonials  of  a similar  character 
had  come  in  from  different  sections.  Mr.  Lincoln 
took  the  hat,  and  after  admiring  its  texture  ^nd 


342 


THE  WORTHS 


workmanship,  put  it  on  liis  head  and  walked  up  to 
a looking-glass.  Glancing  from  the  reflection  to 
Mrs.  Lincoln,  he  said,  with  his  peculiar  twinkle  of 
the  eye,  “Well,  wife,  there  is  one  thing  likely  to 
come  out  of  this  scrape,  any  how.  We  are  going 
to  have  some  neiu  clotliesr 


fl  GALLANIT  ^oung  CQan. 

Mrs.  De  Hobson  Clarke  (who  flatters  herself 
upon  her  youthful  aj)pearance) — You  would  scarcely 
think,  Mr.  Dumley,  that  the  stalwart  young  fellow 
near  the  piano  is  my  son,  would  you? 

Dumley  (gallantly) — No,  indeed,  Mrs.  Clarke;  it 
seems  absolutely  impossible.  Ah-er-is  he  your 
eldest  son? 


Bill  Hyb. 

HE  DISCOVERS  A MAN  WITH  AN  IDEA A NEW  PLAN  OF 

RUNNING  A GOOD  HOTEL IMPROVEMENTS  FOR 

WHICH  PEOPLE  PAY  IN  ADVANCE. 

The  following  circular  from  a hotel-man  in  Kan- 
sas is  going  about  over  the  country,  and  it  certainly 
deserves  more  than  a passing  notice.  I change  the 
name  of  the  hotel  and  proprietor  in  order  to  avoid 
giving  any  free  boom  to  a man  who  seems  to  be 
thoroughly  self-reliant  and  able  to  take  care  of  him- 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


345 


self.  The  rest  of  the  circular  is  accurately  copied : 

Kansas. — Dear  Sir:  Not  having  enough  room 
under  our  present  arrangements,  and  wishing  to 
make  the  Eoller-Towel  House  the  recognized  head- 
quarters for  traveling  men,  we  desire  to  enlarge 
the  building.  Not  having  the  money  on  hand  to 
do  so,  we  make  the  following  proposition : If  you 
will  advance  us  $5,  to  he  used  for  the  above  pur- 
pose, we  will  deduct  that  amount  from  your  bill 
when  stopping  with  us.  We  feel  assured  that  the 
traveling  men  appreciate  our  efforts  to  give  them 
first-class  accommodations,  and  as  the  above  amount 
will  be  deducted  from  your  bill  when  stopping  with 
us,  we  hope  for  a favorable  reply.  Should  you  not 
visit  our  town  again  the  loan  will  be  repaid  in 
cash.  J.  Kkash  Towel, 

Proprietor  Eoller-Towel  House. 

Here  we  have  a man  with  a quiet,  gentlemanly 
way,  and  yet  withal  a cool,  level  head,  a man  who 
knows  when  he  needs  more  room  and  how  best  to 
go  to  work  to  remedy  that  defect.  Mr.  Towel  sees 
that  another  row  of  sleeping  rooms,  cut  low  in  the 
ceiling,  is  actually  needed.  In  fancy  he  already 
sees  these  rooms  added  to  his  house.  Each  has  a 
strip  of  hemp  carpet  in  front  of  the  bed  and  a cute 
little  green  shade  over  the  window,  a shade  that 
falls  down  when  we  try  to  adjust  it,  filling  the 
room  with  Kansas  dust,  In  his  dreams  he  sees 


344 


THE  WORTHS 


each  room  fitted  out  with  one  of  those  smooth,  de- 
ceptive beds  that  are  all  right  until  we  begin  to 
use  them  for  sleeping  purposes,  a bed  that  the  tall 
man  lies  diagonally  across  and  groans  through  the 
livelong  night. 

Mr.  Towel  has  made  a rapid  calculation  on  the 
buttered  side  of  a menu,  and  ascertained  that  if 
one-half  the  traveling  men  in  the  United  States 
would  kindly  advance  $5,  to  be  refunded  in  case 
they  did  not  decide  to  make  a tour  to  the  Eoller 
Towel  House,  and  to  be  taken  out  of  the  bill  in 
case  they  did,  the  amount  so  received  would  not 
only  add  a row  of  compressed  hot-air  bedrooms, 
with  flexible  soap  and  a delirious-looking  glass,  but 
also  insure  an  electric  button,  which  may  or  may 
not  connect  with  the  office,  and  over  which  said 
button  the  following  epitaph  could  be  erected : 

One  Ring  for  Bell  Boy. 

Two  Rings  for  Porter. 

Three  Rings  for  Ice  Water. 

Four  Rings  for  Rough  on  Rats. 

Five  Rings  for  Borrowed  Money. 

Six  Rings  for  Fire. 

Seven  Rings  for  Hook  and  Ladder 
Company. 

In  fact,  a man  could  have  rings  on  his  fingers  and 
bell-boys  on  his  toes  all  the  time  if  he  wanted  to  do 
so. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


345 


And  yet  there  will  be  traveling-men  who  will 
receive  this  kind  circular  and  still  hang  back.  Con- 
stant contact  with  a cold,  cruel  world  has  made 
them  cynical,  and  they  will  hesitate  even  after  Mr. 
Towel  has  said  that  he  will  improve  his  house  with 
the  money,  and  even  after  he  has  assured  us  that 
we  need  not  visit  Kansas  at  all  if  we  will  advance 
the  money.  This  shows  that  he  is  not  altogether 
a heartless  man.  Mr.  Towel  may  be  poor,  but  he 
is  not  without  consideration  for  the  feelings  of 
people  who  loan  him  money. 

For  my  own  part  I fully  believe  that  Mr.  Towel 
would  be  willing  to  fit  up  his  house  and  put  match- 
es in  each  room  if  traveling-men  throughout  the 
country  would  respond  to  this  call  for  assistance. 

But  the  trouble  is  that  the  traveling  public  ex- 
pect a landlord  to  take  all  the  risks  and  advance  all 
the  money.  This  makes  the  matter  of  hotel  keep- 
ing a hazardous  one.  Mr.  Towel  asks  the  guests 
to  become  an  interested  party.  Not  that  he  in  so 
many  words  agrees  to  divide  the  profits  proportion- 
ately at  the  end  of  the  year  with  the  stockholders, 
but  he  is  willing  to  make  his  hotel  larger,  and  if 
food  does  not  come  up  as  fast  as  it  goes  down — in 
price,  I mean — he  will  try  to  make  all  his  guests 
feel  perfectly  comfortable  while  in  his  house. 

Under  favorable  circumstances  the  Roller  Towel 
House  would  no  doubt  be  thoroughly  refitted  and 


346 


THE  WORTHS 


refumisjaed  throughout.  The  little  writing-table 
in  each  room  would  have  its  legs  reglued,  new  wicks 
would  he  inserted  in  the  kerosene  lamps,  the  stairs 
would  he  dazzled  over  with  soft  soap,  and  the  teeth 
in  the  comb  down  in  the  wash-room  would  be  reset 
and  filled.  Numerous  changes  would  he  made  in 
the  corps  de  ballet  also.  The  large-handed  cham- 
bermaid, with  the  cow-catcher  teeth  and  the  red 
Brazil-nut  of  hair  on  the  hack  of  her  head,  would 
he  sent  cown  in  the  dining-room  to  recite  that  little 
rhetorical  hurst  so  often  rendered  by  the  elocution- 
ist of  the  dining-room — the  smart  Aleckutionist,  in 
the  language  of  the  poet,  begining:  “Bfsteakprk- 
stk’ncoldts,”  with  a falling  inflection  that  sticks  its 
head  into  the  bosom  of  the  earth  and  gives  its  tail 
a tremolo  movement  in  the  air. 

On  receipt  of  $5  from  each  one  of  the  traveling 
men  of  the  union  new  hinges  would  be  put  into  the 
slippery-elm  towels ; the  pink  soap  would  be  revar- 
nished ; the  different  kinds  of  meat  on  the  table  will 
have  tags  on  them,  stating  in  plain  words  what 
kinds  of  meat  they  are  so  that  guests  will  not  be 
forced  to  take  the  word  of  servant  or  to  reply  on 
their  own  judgement ; fresh  vinegar  with  a sour  taste 
to  it,  and  without  microbes,  will  be  put  in  the 
cruets ; the  old  and  useless  cockroaches  will  be  dis- 
charged ; and  the  latest  and  most  approved  adjuncts 
of  hotel  life  will  be  adopted. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


347 


Why,  then,  should  the  traveling  man  hesitate? 
Why  should  he  doubt  and  draw  back,  falter  and 
shrink  ? Why  should  he  allow  pessimism  and  other 
foreign  substances  to  get  into  his  system  and 
change  his  whole  life? 

Let  him  remit  $5  to  the  Eoller  Towel  House,  and 
if  this  should  prove  a success  he  may  assist  other 
hotels  in  the  same  manner.  He  would  thus  feel 
an  interest  in  their  growth  and  prosperity.  Then, 
as  he  became  more  and  more  forehanded,  he  could 
assist  the  railroads,  the  ’bus  lines,  and  the  boot- 
blacks, barbers,  laundries,  &c.,  in  the  same  manner. 
I would  like  to  call  upon  the  American  people  in  the 
same  way. 

I would  like  very  much  to  establish  a nice,  ex- 
pensive home  for  inebriates.  It  would  cost,  pro- 
perly fittted  up,  about  $750,000  or  $800,000.  If 
those  who  read  this  article  will  lend  $50,  by  express 
or  draft,  I will  take  it  out  of  their  bill  the  first  time 
they  will  stop  at  my  new  and  attractive  inebriate 
asylum.  Who  will  be  the  first  to  contribute? — 
Boston  Globe. 


fiN  Innocent  (Dan. 

The  trial  of  a man  for  murder  had  just  com- 
menced in  a Dakota  court  when  the  attorney  for 
the  defense  arose  and  said : 


34:8 


THE  WORTHS 


“If  the  court  please,  we  have  no  fear  as  to  the 
outcome  of  this  trial.  In  the  testimony  we  shall 
prove  that  the  murder  was  committed  four  miles 
from  town  at  2 o’clock  in  the  afternoon.  We  shall 
also  establish  the  fact  that  there  was  a circus  in 
town  that  day.” 

“Hold  on,”  said  the  judge,  excitedly;  “you  say 
there  w^as  a circus  in  town?” 

“Yes,  sir;  the  Anti-European  Conglomeration 
showed  there  that  day.” 

“Yes,  I’ve  seen  it — two  rings,  a spotted- grave- 
digging hyena,  and  seven  lady  bareback-riders. 
You  say  the  man  was  killed  about  2 o’clock?” 

“Yes,  your  honor.” 

‘‘Just  the  time  of  the  ring  parade?”- 

“The  same  time.” 

“While  the  elephant  and  double-humped  camels 
were  going  around ! ” . 

“Yes,  sir.” 

“The  prisoner  is  discharged.  Trying  to  prove 
that  a man  was  four  miles  away  from  town  on  such 
an  occasion  is  looked  upon  as  a malicious  persecu- 
tion by  this  court.” — Estelline  {D.  T.)  Bell. 

It  CQade  a Dippbi^engb. 

“Madam,”  he  said,  after  a long  survey  of  a dowser 
stand  at  the  central  market  yesterday,  “could  you 


IT  MADE  A DIFFERENCE 


P.  348. 


V . 


trB<wwf 

OF  THE 

UHIVERSITV  Of  IIUH'M 


. WIT  AND  WITS. 


349 


recommend  me  something  to  place  on  my  wife’s 
grave?” 

“I  think  so,”  she  answered,  as  she  looked  him 
over.  ‘‘How  long  has  she  been  dead?” 

“Six  years.” 

“Married  again?” 

“What  is  that  to  you?” 

“Oh,  you  needn’t  be  so  cranky  about  it.  I’ve 
dealt  in  cemetery  flowers  for  the  last  fifteen  years 
and  I know  about  how  things  work.  If  you  are 
still  a widower  you  want  about  $4  worth  of  flowers 
and  a border  of  moss.  If  you  are  married  again 
you’ll  pick  out  a 25-cent  beat  me  down 

to  15  cents,  and  send  cemetery  by  a car- 

driver.” 

He  pretended  to  be  very  indignant,  and  went  to 
the  other  end  of  the  market  and  bought  two  feeble- 
looking  pinks  for  7 cents  apiece. — Detroit  Free 
Press. 


fl  SAcr^iPiGE. 

“You  have  bad  news  to  tell  me?”  queried  the 
wife  of  an  Ohio  plow  manufacturer,  as  he  came 
home  the  other  night. 

“Yes.  The  men  have  demanded  an  increase  of 
pay.  They  want  95  cents  a day  or  they  will 
strike.” 


S50 


THE  WOELHS 


“You  don’t  say!  Why,  what  on  earth  can  they 
be  thinking  of?” 

“I’m  afraid  I’ll  have  to  give  in  to  them,  and 
you’ll  have  to  make  a sacrifice.  I won’t  ask  you 
to  give  up  those  diamond  bracelets,  nor  the  new 
carriage,  hut  I’m  afraid  you’ll  have  to  come  down 
to  $50  hats  and  $15  shoes.” 


©WO  f7UNDI^ED  AND  FiPJIiY  ©HOUSAND 

Masses  to  Richmond. 

A gentleman  called  upon  President  Lincoln  be^ 
fore  the  fall  of  Kichmond  and  solicited  a pass  for 
that  place.  “I  should  be  very  happy  to  oblige 
you,”  said  the  President,  “if  my  passes  were  re- 
spected; but  the  fact  is,  I have,  within  the  past 
two  years,  given  passes  to  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  men  to  go  to  Eichmond,  and  not  one  has 
got  there  yet.” 

f^E  OlAS  ON  Y}IS  GUAI^D. 

“My  deah  fellah,  do  you  know  I’ve  been  watch- 
ing you  with — aw — with  great  interwest  of  late  ? 
You  pose  on  the  corners  with — aw — with  pwincely 
dignity.  Don’t  you  evaw  west?”  “Naw,  chum- 
mie,  nevah.  You  know,  demmit,  there  are  so  many 
of  these — aw^ — these  detective  camewahs  carried — 
aw — awound  now,  I am  afiwaid,  don’t  you  know. 


WIT  AND  TF/r^. 


351 


some  artist  will  take  me  picture,  begad,  when  Ibu 
not  weady.  So  I’m  always  weady,  don’t  you 
know.” 


f^UNTING  AN  IGHTHYOSAUI^US. 

THE  VICTIMS  OF  A PRACTICAL  JOKE  TRAMP  FIVE  DAYS 
ALONG  BITTER  CREEK  IN  SEARCH  OF  AN  ANIMAL 
THAT  HAD  BEEN  DEAD  5,000  YEARS. 

BILL  NYE. 

Several  years  ago  1 had  the  pleasure  of  joining  a 
party  about  to  start  out  along  the  banks  of  Bitter 
creek  on  a hunting  expedition.  The  leader  of  the 
party  was  a young  man  who  had  recently  escaped 
from  college  with  a large  amount  of  knowledge 
which  he  desired  to  experiment  with  on  the  people 
of  the  far  west.  He  had  heard  that  there  was  an 
ichthyosaurus  up  somewhere  along  the  west  side 
of  Bitter  creek,  and  he  wanted  us  to  go  along  and 
help  him  to  find  it. 

I had  been  in  the  west  some  eight  or  nine  years 
then  and  I had  never  seen  an  ichthyosaurus  myself, 
but  I thought  the  young  man  must  know  his  busi- 
ness, so  I got  out  my  Winchester  and  went  along 
with  the  group. 

We  tramped  over  the  pale,  ashy,  glaring,  staring 
stretch  of  desolation,  through  burning,  quivering 


S52 


THE  WORTHS 


days  of  monotony  and  sage  brush  and  alkali  water 
and  aching  eyes  and  parched  and  bleeding  lips  and 
nostrils  cut  through  and  eaten  hy  the  sharp  alka- 
line air,  mentally  depressed  and  physicall}^  worn 
out,  but  cheered  on  and  braced  up  by  the  light  and 
joyous  manner  of  the  ever-hopful  James  Trilobite 
Eton  of  Concord. 

James  Trilobite  Eton  of  Concord  never  moaned, 
never  gigged  back  or  shed  a hot,  remorseful  tear  in 
this  powdry,  hungry  waste  of  gray,  parched  ruin. 
No  regret  came  forth  from  his  lips  in  the  midst  of 
this  mighty  cemetery,  this  ghastly  potter’s  field  for 
all  that  nature  had  ever  reared  that  was  too  poor  to 
bear  its  own  funeral  expenses. 

Now  and  then  a lean,  soiled  gray  coyote,  without 
sufficient  moral  courage  to  look  a dead  mule  in  the 
hind  foot,  slipped  across  the  horizon  like  a dirty 
phantom  and  faded  into  the  hot  and  tremulous  at- 
mosphere. We  scorned  such  game  as  that  and 
trudged  on,  cheered  by  the  hope  that  seemed  to 
spring  eternal  in  the  breast  of  James  Trilobite 
Eton  of  Concord. 

Four  days  we  wallowed  through  the  unchanging 
desolation.  Four  nights  w^e  went  through  the  mo- 
tions of  slumbering  on  the  arid  bosom  of  the  wasted 
earth.  On  the  fifth  day  James  Trilobite  Eton  said 
we  were  now  getting  near  the  point  where  we  would 
find  what  we  sought.  On  we  pressed  through  the 


WTT  AND  WITS. 


keen,  rough  blades  of  the  seldom  hunch-grass,  over 
the  shifting,  yellow  sand  and  the  greenish  gray  of 
the  had-land  soil  which  never  does  anything  but 
sit  around  through  the  accumulating  centuries  and 
hold  the  world  together,  a kind  of  powdery  poison 
that  delights  to  creep  into  the  nostrils  of  the  pil- 
grim and  steal  away  his  brains,  or  when  moistened 
by  a little  snow  to  accumulate  around  the  feet  of 
the  pilgrim  or  on  the  feet  of  the  pilgrim’s  mule  till 
he  has  the  most  of  an  unsurveyed  ‘dorty”  on  each 
foot,  and  the  casual  observer  is  cheered  by  the 
novel  sight  of  one  homestead  striving  to  jump  an- 
other. 

Toward  evening  James  Trilobite  Eton  gave  a 
wild  shriek  of  joy  and  ran  to  us  from  the  bed  of  an 
old  creek,  where  he  had  found  an  ichthyosaurus. 
The  animal  was  dead!  Not  only  that,  but  it  had 
been  dead  a long,  long  time ! 

James  Milton  Sherrod  said  that  “if  a college 
education  was  of  no  more  use  to  a man  than  that 
he,  for  one,  allowed  that  his  boy  would  have  to 
grope  through  life  with  an  academical  education, 
and  very  little  of  it.'' 

I uncocked  my  gun  and  went  hack  to  camp  a 
sadder  and  madder  man,  and,  though  years  have 
come  and  gone,  I am  still  irritable  when  I think  of 
the  five  days  we  tramped  along  Bitter  creek 


23 


354 


TIIK  WOULD^& 


searching  for  an  animal  that  was  no  longer  alive, 
and  onr  guide  knew  it  before  he  started. 

I ventured  to  say  to  J.  Trilobite  Eton  tliat  niglit 
as  we  all  sat  together  in  the  gloaming  discussing 
whether  he  should  be  taken  home  with  us  in  the 
capacity  of  a guide  or  as  a remains,  that  it  seemed 
to  me  a man  ought  to  have  better  sense  than  to 
wear  Ids  young  life  away  trying  to  have  fun  with 
his  superiors  in  that  way. 

“Wliy,  blame  it  all,”  says  Janies,  “what  did  you 
expect?  You  ought  to  know  yourself  that  that 
animal  is  extinct !” 

“Extinck!”  says  James  Milton  Sherrod,  in  shrill, 
angry  tones.  “I  sliould  say  he  was  extinck.  That’s 
what  we’re  kickin’  about.  What  gallded  me  was 
that  you  should  of  waited  till  the  old  cuss  was  ex- 
tinck before  you  come  to  us  like  a man  and  told  us 
about  it.  You  pull  us  through  the  sand  for  a week 
and  blister  our  heels  and  condemb  near  kill  us,  and 
all  the  time  you  know  that  the  blame  brute  is 
layin’  there  in  the  hot  sun  gittin’  more  and  more 
extinck  every  minute.  Fun  is  fun,  and  I like  a 
little  nonsense  now  and  then  just  as  well  as  you 
do,  but  I’ll  be  eternally  banished  to  Bitter  creek  if 
I think  it’s  square  or  right  or  white  to  play  it  on 
your  friends  this  kind  of  a way. 

“You  claim  that  the  animal  has  been  dead  goin’ 
on  five  thousand  years,  or  some  such  thing  as  that. 


WIT  AFD  WITS, 


355 


and  try  to  get  out  of  it  that  way,  but  long  as  you 
knew  it  and  we  didn’t  it  shows  that  you’re  a low 
cuss  not  to  speak  of  it. 

“What  difference  does  it  make  to  us,  I say, 
whether  this  brute  was  or  was  not  dead  and  swelled 
up  like  a pizen’d  steer  long  before  Nore  got  his 
zoologickle  show  together?  We  didn’t  know  it. 
We  haven’t  seen  the  Salt  Lake  papers  for  weeks. 
You  use  your  edjecation  to  fool  people  with.  My 
opinion  is  that  the  day  is  not  far  distant  when  you 
will  wake  up  and  find  yourself  in  the  bottom  of  an 
untimely  grave. 

“You  bring  us  a hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  look 
at  an  old  bone  pile  all  tramped  into  the  ground  and 
then  say  that  the  animal  is  extinck.  That's  a great 
way  to  talk  to  an  old  man  like  me,  a man  old 
enough  to  he  your  grandfather.  Probly  you 
cacklate  that  it  is  a rare  treat  for  an  old-timer  like 
me  to  waller  through  from  Green  Kiver  to  the  Yal- 
lerstone  and  then  hear  a young  kangaroo  with  a 
moth-eaten  eyebrow  under  his  nose  burst  forth  into 
a rollicking  laugh  and  say  that  the  animal  we’ve 
been  trailin’  for  five  days  is  extinck. 

“I  just  want  to  say  to  you,  James  Trilobite  Eton, 
and  I say  it  for  your  good  and  I say  it  with  no 
prejudice  against  you,  for  I want  to  see  you  succeed, 
that  if  this  ever  happens  agin  and  you  are  the 
party  to  blame  you  will  wake  up  with  a wild  start 


356 


THE  WORLD'' S 


an  the  follerin’  day  and  find  yourself  a good  deal 
extincker  than  this  here  old  busted  lizard  is.” 


Y}E  ^as  Sympathbitig. 

“Maude,”  he  said,  tenderly  putting  his  cane  and 
gloves  and  hat  down  on  the  floor,  “will  you  maiwy 
me?” 

“No,  sir,”  she  answered,  coldly,  “I  will  not.” 

“Oh,  Maude,  think  befoah  you  speak,”  he  urged, 
as  he  adjusted  his  necktie.  “Will  you  be  my 
wife?” 

“No,  sir,”  she  repeated,  emphatically,  “I  won’t.” 

“Maude,”  he  murmured,  “you  have  made  me 
verwy,  verwy  happy.  I only  awsked  you  out  of 
sympathy,  don’t  you  know.” 

The  way  he  went  out  of  the  house  reminded 
those  who  saw  it  of  a sensational  account  of  a 
western  cyclone. 


p Liingoln  Stof^y  about  Liittlb  Dan  ^eb- 
STEi^’s  Soiled  I^andsI — l)ow  Dan 
Gsgapbd  a Flogging. 

Mr.  Lincoln,  on  one  occasion  narrated  to  Hon. 
Mr.  Odell  and  others,  with  much  zest,  the  follow- 
ing story  about  young  Daniel  Webster: 

When  quite  young,  at  school,  Daniel  Avas  one 
day  guilty  of  a gross  violation  of  the  rules.  He 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


357 


was  detected  in  the  act,  and  called  up  by  the 
teacher  for  punishment.  This  was  to  be  the  old- 
fashioned  “feruling”  of  the  hand.  His  hands  hap- 
pened to  be  very  dirty.  Knowing  this,  on  his  way 
to  the  teacher’s  desk,  he  spit  upon  the  palm  of  his 
right  hand,  wiping  it  off  upon  the  side  of  his  panta- 
loons. 

“Give  me  your  hand,  sir,”  said  the  teacher,  very 
sternly. 

Out  went  the  right  hand,  partly  cleansed.  The 
teacher  looked  at  it  a moment,  and  said: 

“Daniel ! if  you  will  find  another  hand  in  this 
school-room  as  filthy  as  that,  I will  let  you  off  this 
time !” 

Instantly  from  behind  his  back  came  the  left 
hand.  “Here  it  is,  sir,”  was  the  ready  reply. 

“That  will  do,”  said  the  teacher,  “for  this  time; 
yo^  :an  take  your  seat,  sir,” 


YjlS  I^BASON. 

A jury  composed  of  eleven  business  men  and  an 
old  fellow  from  across  the  creek  retired  to  the  jury 
room.  The  foreman,  when  selected,  remarked  that 
he  thought  the  prisoner  ought  to  be  sent  to  the 
penitentiary  for  five  years. 

“That  ain’t  long  enough,”  said  the  old  fellow. 
“Let’s  put  it  on  him  fur  ten.” 


358 


THE  WORLDS S 


“0,  no,  that  won’t  do.” 

“Wall,  then,”  stretching  himself  out  on  a bench, 
“I’m  with  yer.” 

“What,  you  going  to  hang  the  jury?” 

“That’s  about  it.” 

dear  sir,  we  are  anxious  to  get  back  to  our  • 
business.” 

“Then  send  him  up  fur  ten.” 

“But  that  would  be  a great  injustice.’- 

“Then  squat  an’  make  yourselves  comfortable.” 

“Have  you  any  special  reason  why  the  prisoner 
should  go  up  for  ten  years?” 

“Think  I have,”  throwing  a quid  of  tobacco  at 
the  spittoon. 

“Will  you  please  name  it?” 

“Yes,  fur  it  won’t  take  me  long.  He  is  my  son- 
in-law,  an’  I have  been  supportin’  him  ever  since 
he  was  married.” 

He  went  up  for  ten  years. — Arkansaw  Traveler. 


F?ow  Y)E  0)issbd  Im. 

“Dot  brudder  of  mine  in  Chicago  vhas  no  good,” 
said  Moses,  as  he  dusted  a pair  of  second-hand 
pants  at  the  door.  “He  close  his  shtore  der  odder 
day  und  puts  on  a sign  dot  his  vdie  was  deadt,  und 
he  doan’  keep  open  for  two  days.” 

“Wasn’t  that  right?” 


HOW  HE  MISSED  IT. 


P-  358. 


irnRAHV 

Of  THE 

UNIVERSITY  Of  1UINO) 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


359 


“It  vhas  all  right  to  shut  oop,  but  why  doan’  he 
say  on  der  sign : “On  dis  account  I haf  to  dispose 
of  dis  mammoth  shtock,  und  all  goods  shall  be  sold 
at  10  per  cent,  below  cost?”  Vhen  a peesness  man’s 
wife  dies  it  vhas  a chance  to  advertise,  dot  doan’ 
come  once  in  twenty  years.” 


FUN  IN  iPHB  Bellow  op  ^the  Blasip. 
[coon  rapids  enterprise.] 

One  among  the  most  amusing  is  told  on  old 
Father  Minnich.  He  saw  t^.gy^one  approaching 
as  it  came  over  the  hill,  an^^tinding  in  the  back 
door  and  being  beside  *llimself,  waved*  his  arms 
toward  it  and  cried  out:  “Shoo,  shoo;  go’way  go’- 
way,  go’way.”  The  storm  didn’t  harm  him,  and 
no  one  can  prove  that  his  effort  was  in  vain. 

Another  one  is  told  of  our  industrious  tailor.  He 
made  all  possible  haste  to  reach  his  dwelling  and 
save  his  wife, but  the  cyclone  overtook  him,  and  he 
had  to  throw  himself  on  the  ground  and  hold  to  a 
fence  post.  He  was  terribly  shaken  up,  and  as  soon 
as  he  reached  his  feet  he  was  asked  by  Attorney 
Eeid  if  he  was  hurt. 

He  replied:  “I  don’t  know,  but  I think  I am. 
My  head  is  awful  soft  right  here ; please  examine 
it.” 


360 


THE  WORLDS  & 


Eeid  did  so,  and  found  the  soft  place  to  be  a huge 
piece  of  mud  which  was  plastered  behind  his  ear. 

J.  A.  Miller  also  came  in  as  a subject  for  a little 
fun  by  running  away  from  his  store,  carefully  carry- 
ing away  an  old  clothing  sign,  which  was  worth 
more  for  what  it  had  done  than  for  any  future  ser- 
vice. J.  A.  knows  the  value  of  advertising,  how- 
ever, and  hence  his  idea  was  not  so  laughable  after 
all. 

In  the  country,  when  Mrs.  Titus  was  taken  out 
of  the  wreck,  apparently  almost  dead,  one  of  her 
little  boys,  about  four  years  old,  exclaimed:  “Why, 
papa,  you’ll  have  to. get  us  a new  mamma  now — 
ours  won’t  be  good  for  anything  any  more.” 

The  Enter'prise  quill,  too,  was  a trifle  out  of  his 
head,  and  was  made  fun  of  because  he  was  inviting 
some  of  the  homeless  to  his  house  for  shelter  when 
the  roof  was  off  his  building  and  the  rain  dripping 
through  the  ceiling  as  through  a seive. 

They  also  say  that  Warren  Garst  insists  that  he 
was  standing  near  the  cyclone,  watching  it  as  it 
passed,  when  in  fact  he  was  in  a cave  with  fifteen 
women  and  a preacher,  and  so  badly  frightened  that, 
notwithstanding  his  proverbial  gallantry,  he  could 
not  be  induced  by  a lady  to  run  to  her  house  and 
secure  a vahse  which  she  seemed  to  be  very  anxious 
to  save. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


361 


r^BW  BIOGI^APHY  op  GALiIIjEO. 

SOME  HERETOFOKE  UNPUBLISHED  FACTS  ABOUT  THE  QUEER 

OLD  ITALIAN HIS  REMARKABLE  INVENTIONS  AND 

DISCOVERIES — HIS  BOOKS. 


BILL  NYE. 


Galilei,  commonly  called  Galileo,  was  born  at 
Pisa  on  the  14th  day  February,  1564.  He  was  a 
man  who  discovered  some  of  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciples underlying  the  movements,  habits,  and  per- 
sonal peculiarities  of  the  earth.  Pie  discovered 
things  with  marvelous  fluency.  Born  as  he  was, 
at  a time  when  the  rotary  motion  of  the  earth  was 
still  in  its  infancy  and  astronomy  taught  only  in  a 
crude  way,  Galileo  started  in  to  make  a few  dis- 
coveries and  advance  some  theories  of  which  he 
was  very  fond. 

He  was  the  son  of  a musician  and  learned  to  play 
several  instruments  himself,  but  not  in  such  a way 
as  to  arouse  the  jealousy  of  the  great  musicians  of 
his  day.  They  came  and  heard  him  play  a few 
selections  and  then  they  went  home  contented  with 
their  own  music.  Galileo  played  for  several  years 
in  the  band  at  Pisa,  and  people  who  heard  him  said 
that  his  maimer  of  gazing  out  over  the  Pisan  hills 
with  a far-away  look  in  his  eye  after  playing  a se- 
lection, while  he  gently  upended  his  alto  horn  and 


362 


THE  WORTHS 


worked  the  mud- valve  as  it  poured  out  about  a pint 
of  moist  melody  that  had  accumulated  in  the  flues 
of  the  instrument,  was  simply  grand. 

At  the  age  of  20  Galileo  began  to  discover.  His 
first  discoveries  were,  of  course,  clumsy  and  poorly 
made,  but  very  soon  he  began  to  turn  out  a neat  and-^ 
durable  discovery  that  would  stand  for  years. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Galileo  noticed  the 
swinging  of  a lamp  in  a church,  and,  observing 
that  the  oscillations  were  of  equal  duration,  he  in- 
ferred that  this  principle  might  be  utilized  in  the 
exact  measurement  of  time.  From  this  little  acci- 
dent, years  after,  came  the  clock,  one  of  the  most 
useful  of  man’s  dumb  friends.  And  yet  there  are 
people  who  will  read  this  litttle  incident  and  still 
hesitate  about  going  to  church. 

Galileo  also  invented  the  thermometer,  the  micro- 
scope, and  the  proportional  compass.  He  seemed 
to  invent  things,  not  for  the  money  to  be  obtained 
in  that  way,  but  solely  for  the  joy  of  being  first  on 
the  ground.  He  was  a man  of  infinite  genius  and 
perseverance.  He  was  also  very  fair  in  his  treat- 
ment of  other  inventors.  Though  he  did  not  per- 
sonally invent  the  rotary  motion  of  the  earth,  he 
heartily  indorsed  it  and  said  it  was  a good  thing. 
He  also  came  out  in  a card  in  which  he  said  that 
he  believed  it  to  be  a good  thing,  and  that  he  hoped 
some  day  to  see  it  applied  to  the  other  planets. 


WTT  AND  WITS. 


363 


He  was  also  the  inventor  of  a telescope  that  had 
a magnifying  power  of  thirty  times.  He  presented 
this  to  the  Venetian  senate,  and  it  was  used  in 
making  appropriations  for  river  and  harbor  improve- 
ments. 

By  telescopic  investigation  Galileo  discovered  the 
presence  of  microbes  in  the  moon,  but  was  unable 
to  do  anything  for  it.  I have  spoken  of  Mr.  Galileo 
all  the  way  through  this  article  informally,  calling 
him  by  his  first  name,  but  I feel  so  thoroughly  ac- 
quainted with  him,  though  there  was  such  a strik- 
ing difference  in  our  ages,  that  I am  almost  justified 
in  using  his  given  name  while  talking  of  him. 

Galileo  also  sat  up  nights  and  visited  with  Venus 
through  a long  telescope  which  he  had  made  him- 
self from  an  old  bamboo  fishing-rod. 

But  astronomy  is  a very  enervating  branch  of 
science.  Galileo  frequently  came  down  to  break- 
fast with  red,  heavy  eyes ; eyes  that  were  swollen 
full  of  unshed  tears.  Still  he  persevered.  Day  after 
day  he  worked  and  toiled.  Year  after  year  he  went 
on  with  his  task  till  he  had  worked  out  in  his  own 
mind  the  satellites  of  Jupiter  and  placed  a small  tin 
tag  on  each  one,  so  that  he  would  know  it  readily 
when  he  saw  it  again.  Then  he  began  to  look  up 
Saturn’s  rings  and  investigate  the  freckles  on  the 
sun.  He  did  not  stop  at  trifles,  hut  went  bravely 
on  till  averybody  came  foi*  miles  to  look  at  him  and 


364 


THE  WORLB'^S 


get  him  to  write  something  funny  in  their  albums. 
It  was  not  an  unusual  thing  for  Galileo  to  get  up 
in  the  morning,  after  a wearisome  night  with  a 
fretful  new-horn  star,  to  find  his  front  yard  full  of 
autograph  albums.  Some  of  them  were  little  red 
albums  with  floral  decorations  on  them,  while  others 
were  the  large  plush  and  alligator  albums  of  the  af- 
fluent. • Some  were  new  and  had  the  price-mark  still 
on  them,  while  others  were  old,  foundered  albums, 
with  a droop  in  the  back  and  little  flecks  of  egg  and 
gravy  on  the  title-page.  All  came  with  a request 
for  Galileo  “to  write  a little,  witty,  characteristic 
sentiment  in  them.” 

Galileo  was  the  author  of  the  hydrostatic  para- 
dox and  other  sketches.  He  was  a great  reader 
and  a fluent  penman.  One  time  he  was  absent  from 
home,  lecturing  in  Venice  for  the  benefit  of  the 
United  Aggregation  of  Mutual  x\dmirers,  and  did  not 
return  for  two  weeks,  so  that  when  he  got  back  he 
found  the  front  room  full  of  autograph  albums.  It 
is  said  that  he  here  demonstrated  his  great  fluency 
and  readiness  as  a thinker  and  writer.  He  waded 
through  the  entire  lot  in  two  days  with  only  two 
men  from  West  Pisa  to  assist  him.  Galileo  came 
out  of  it  fresh  and  youthful,  and  the  following  night 
he  was  closeted  all  night  with  another  inventor,  a 
wicker-covered  microscope,  and  a bologna  sausage. 
The  investigations  were  carried  on  for  two  weeks, 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


365 


after  which  Galileo  went  out  to  the  inebriate  asy- 
lum and  discovered  some  new  styles  of  reptiles. 

Galileo  was  the  author  of  a little  work  called  “I 
Discarsi  e Dimas-Trazioni  Matematiche  Intorus  a 
Due  Muove  Scienze.”  It  was  a neat  little  book,  of 
about  the  medium  height,  and  sold  well  on  the 
trains,  for  the  Pisan  newsboys  on  the  cars  were 
very  affable,  as  they  are  now,  and  when  they  came 
and  leaned  an  armful  of  these  books  on  a passen- 
ger’s leg  and  poured  a long  tale  into  his  ear  about 
the  wonderful  beauty  of  the  work  and  then  pulled 
in  the  name  of  the  book  from  the  rear  of  the  last  car, 
where  it  had  been  hanging  on  behind,  the  passen- 
ger would  most  always  buy  it  and  enough  of  the 
name  to  wrap  it  up  in. 

He  also  discovered  the  isochronism  of  the  pen- 
dulum. He  saw  that  the  pendulum  at  certain 
seasons  of  the  year  looked  yellow  under  the  eyes, 
and  that  it  drooped  and  did  not  enter  into  its  work 
with  the  old  zest.  He  began  to  study  the  case 
with  the  aid  of  his  new  bamboo  telescope  and 
wicker-covered  microscope.  As  a result,  in  ten 
days  he  had  the  pendulum  on  its  feet  again. 

Galileo  was  inclined  to  he  liberal  in  his  religious 
views,  and  more  especially  in  the  matter  of  the 
scriptures,  claiming  that  there  were  passages  in  the 
bihle  which  did  not  literally  mean  what  the  transla- 
tor said  they  did.  This  was  where  Galileo  missed  it. 


S66 


THE  WORTHS 


So  long  as  he  discovered  stars  and  isochronisms 
and  such  things  as  that  he  succeeded,  but  when  he 
began  to  fool  with  other  peoples’s  rehgious  behefs 
he  got  into  trouble.  He  was  forced  to  fly  from 
Pisa,  we  are  told  by  the  historian,  and  we  are 
assured  at  the  same  time  that  Gahleo,  who  had 
always  been  far,  far  ahead  of  all  competitors  in 
other  things,  was  equally  successful  as  a fleer. 

Gahleo  received  but  60  scudi  per  year  for  his 
salary  at  Pisa,  and  a part  of  that  he  took  in  town 
orders,  woidh  only  60  cents  on  the  scudi. 


fl  Good  Day’s 

“I  made  a cool  $2  bill  yesterday  besides  my 
wages,”  said  a new  conductor  of  the  3d  avenue 
hne. 

“Why  do  you  call  it  a cool  $2  bill!” 

“Because  I made  it  freezing  to  fares.” 


©HE  ffSSESSMENJP  DLAN. 

“No  hoisting  works;  not  if  I know  it.  You  can 
fool  away  a good  deal  of  good,  hard  coin  on  hoist- 
ing works.” 

“How  in  thunder  do  you  run  youi-  mine?” 

“On  the  assessment  plan,  sir.  That’s  the  latest 
and  most  approved  method.  When  we  have  a 
good  map  of  the  lower  workings  we  don’t  need  any 


WJt  AND  WITS.  36t 

works  to  speak  of.  I keep  a man  in  Virginia  at 
$60  a month  to  superintend  the  location  and  write 
weekly  letters ; and  I stay  in  San  Francisco  in  my 
office  on  Pine  street,  and  levy  the  assessments 
every  sixty  days — that’s  as  often  as  the  law  allows. 
I am  the  President,  Board  of  Trustees,  Secretary, 
Treasurer,  and  everything — more  especially  the 
Treasurer.  Of  course  I draw  a salary  for  all  the 
offices,  and  when  I get  through  drawing  salaries,  I 
turn  the  rest  over  to  the  agent  in  Virginia  to  pay 
oh  the  hands.  By  not  employing  any  hands  he 
saves  enough  to  pay  himself.  This  is  what  I call 
scientific  mining,  sir.  You  get  the  silver  out  of 
the  pockets  of  the  stockholders,  and  leave  the  vast 
argentiferous  and  auriferous  deposits  in  your  claim 
for  your  children,  who  can  go  right  ahead  and  de- 
velop the  mine  just  as  soon  as  the  public  quit  put- 
ting up,  which  isn’t  at  all  likely  to  happen.  As 
long  as  people  are  being  born  in  Nevada  and  Cali- 
fornia my  mine  will  run  on  like  a chronometer 
clock.” 

“But,”  said  the  Utah  man,  “my  style  of  mining 
keeps  lots  of  men  at  work.” 

“So  does  mine,”  quote  the  Golden  Gate  chap. 
“Thousands  of  men  are  working  night  and  day  to 
pay  the  assessments.  It  keeps  the  country  as  busy 
as  a bee-hive,”  and  the  speaker  sauntered  to  the 
telegraph  office  to  order  assessment  No.  36. 


368 


THE  WORLD'^8 


^ UULGAi^  (Combination. 

He  (at  Central  park  menagerie) — How  brilliant 
those  South  American  birds  are  in  their  gay  plum- 
age of  red,  yellow,' and  black! 

She — Brilliant  enough,  but  in  wretched  taste. 

F)OW  LCINGOLN  ILLUSTI^ATED  ^HAT  ffliGHT  BB 

Done  ^ith  Sebb.  Davis. 

One  of  the  latest  of  Mr.  Lincoln’s  stories,  was 
told  to  a party  of  gentlemen,  who,  among  the 
tumbling  ruins  of  the  Confederacy,  anxiously  asked 
“what  he  would  do  with  Jeff.  Davis?” 

“There  was  a boy  in  Springfield,”  rephed  Mr. 
Lincoln,  “who  saved  up  his  money  and  bought  a 
‘coon,’  which,  after  the  novelty  wore  off,  became  a 
great  nuisance. 

“He  was  one  day  leading  him  through  the  streets, 
and  had  his  hands  full  to  keep  clear  of  the  little 
vixen,  who  liad  torn  his  clothes  half  off  of  him.  At 
length  he  sat  down  on  the  curb-stone,  completely 
fagged  out.  A man  passing  was  stopped  by  the 
lad’s  disconsolate  appearance,  and  asked  the  matter. 

“ ‘Oh,’  was  the  only  reply,  ‘this  coon  is  such  a 
trouble  to  me.’ 

“ ‘Why  don’t  you  get  rid  of  him,  then?’  said  the 
gentleman. 

“ ‘‘Hush!'  said  the  boy;  ‘don’t  you  see  he  is  gnaw- 
ing his  rope  off?  I am  going  to  let  him  do  it,  and 


A VULQAR  combination 


P.  36«, 


trmur 

OF  THE 

WIVERSITV  Of  ttllNOIS 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


369 


then  I will  go  home  and  tell  the  folks  that  he  got 
aivay  from  mel  ” 

©Hf^IIiLING  FJOMANGE. 

[a  la  feancaise.] 

M.  De  Makeshift,  when  the  file  of  soldiers  left 
him  found  himself  in  a dungeon.  Not  a ray  of 
light  penetrated  the  dismal  abode,  but  De  Make- 
shift’s eyes  gradually  became  so  accustomed  to  the 
darkness  that  he  say  a broom-straw  lying  in  a cor- 
ner. He  caught  up  the  broom-straw,  uttered  a 
stifled  cry,  and  pressed  it  to  his  heaving  bosom. 
Then,  in  his  despair,  het&^^^d  his  nose  with  the 
straw  and  laughed* 

‘‘Who  laughs?”  demanded  a voice. 

“I  do.” 

“Who  are  you?” 

“De  Makeshift.  Who  are  you?” 

“The  Abbe  So-Long.” 

“Ah.” 

“Ah,  hah.” 

“How  long  have  you  been  here?” 

“I  have  now,  alas,  no  method  of  reckoning  time, 
but  I must  have  been  here  since  sunrise  this  morn- 
ing.” 

De  Makeshift  groaned.  “Where  are  you  now?” 
he  asked. 

24 


370 


THE  WORLD'S 


“In  a tunnel,”  the  abbe  repbed. 

“A  tunnel?” 

‘Tes.” 

“You  make  my^^ai^beat.  Where  did  you  get 
the  tunnel  n' v U 

“Made  it.”  * 

“You  astonish  me.” 

“Ah.” 

“Ah,  bah.  Where  did  you  get  your  shovel?” 
“Had  none.” 

“Then  how  did  you  make  the  tunnel?” 
“Listen.” 

“I  will.” 

“I  scooped  it  out  with  a shirt  button.  Have 
you  a button  on  your  shirt?” 

“No.” 

“Alas,  you  are  married.” 

“No.” 

“Then  why  have  you  no  buttons?” 

“A  Chinaman  does  my  washing.” 

“Ah.” 

“Ah,  hah.” 

“Well,  wait  until  I gouge  my  way  through  this 
rock  and  I will  lend  you  my  button.” 

“0,  I thank  you.” 

“Hist,  the  turnkey  comes. 

After  a long  silence:  “Has  the  turnkey  gone?” 
the  abbe  asked. 


tmatr 

, OF  the 

VHIVEFilTY  Of  tllWniH 


A LONG,  BONY  ARM  WAS  THRUST  INTO  DE  MAKESHIFT’S  CELL.  P.  37I. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


371 


‘‘Not  yet.” 

“Well,  when  he  goes  tell  me  and  I will  resume 
my  work.” 

“All  right,  he’s  gone  now.*’ 

“I  am  at  work.” 

Scoup,  scoup,  scoup.  A long,  bony  arm  was 
thrust  into  De  Makeshift’s  cell.  De  Makeshift 
seized  it  and  pressed  the  elbow  to  his  bps.  The 
abbe  stepped  into  t]^e  cell.  “We  must  escape  from 
here,”  said  the  abhe. 

“How?” 

“By  scaling  the  walls.” 

“How  can  we  scale  them  without  a knife?” 

“Wait.” 

The  abbe  took  oh  his  shirt,  tore  it  into  shreds 
and,  in  a marvelous  manner,  made  a ladder.  “Got 
a couple  of  pins?” 

“What  do  you  want  with  them?” 

“Make  hooks  to  go  on  the  end  of  the  ladder.” 

“Here  they  are.” 

“Now,”  said  the  abbe,  bending  the  pins  and  fast- 
ening them  on  the  ladder,  “follow  me.” 

They  passed  out  into  the  court-yard.  De  Make- 
shift uttered  an  exclamation.  He  saw  the  man  who 
had  poisoned  his  grandfather.  The  abbe  threw  the 
ladder.  The  pins  caught  hold ; the  two  men  es- 
caped. 


372 


THE  WORTHS 


The  following  is  an  extract  from  American  real- 
ism : 

‘'Samuel,”  said  Miss  Peterson,  “have  you  taken 
the  ashes  out  of  the  stove?” 

‘T  guess  I have.” 

“Did  you  fix  the  kindling?” 

“I  guess  I have.” 

Samuel  arose,  stretched  himself,  blew  his  nose  on 
•a  bordered  handkercliief,  took  up  a decorated  shell, 
looked  at  it,  put  it  down,  looked  at  the  clock,  took 
up  his  hat  and  quietly  left  the  house.  His  heart 
was  hea^-y,  much  heavier  than  his  brain.  He 
walked  with  a slight  limp.  Why?  The  corn-doc- 
tor’s experiment  had  not  been  successful.  He  blew 
his  nose.  Then  he  sneezed.  When  he  reached 
the  street  corner  he  sneezed  again.  A girl  passed, 
looked  back  at  him  and  giggled.  He  despised  gig- 
ghng  girls.  His  sister  who  married  a man  who 
possessed  epileptic  fits  did  not  giggle.  He  followed 
the  girl.  He  despised  himself  for  doing  it  but  he 
couldn’t  help  it.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever 
followed  a girl.  He  overtook  the  girl. 

“How  are  you?”  he  asked. 

She  giggled  and  said  that  she  was  able  to  get 
about. 

“I  know  that,”  said  he. 

Then  they  both  giggled.  He  turned  and  left 
the  girl.  His  heart  was  full  of  sweet  sadness,  He 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


373 


regretted  having  spoken  to  the  girl  for  he  had  not 
been  brought  up  with  her,  yet  her  bright  image,  as 
it  hung  before  him  in  a neat  black- walnut  frame, 
smiled  upon  him  and  made  his  heart  beat  with  joy- 
ous throbs.  ‘‘I  must  not  speak  to  her  again,”  he 
said,  but  the  next  minute  he  ran  after  her.  He 
overtook  her  and  said : 

“How  are  you  by  now?” 

She  smiled  and  said  that  she  was  still  stirring. 
He  turned  and  ran  away.  That  night  his  sleep 
was  not  sound.  He  was  in  love. — Arhansaiv 
Traveler. 


(sONGI^ESSIONAIi  fflETHODS. 

The  clock  had  struck  midnight  in  the  residence 
of  a Congressman,  and  still  the  young  man  in  the 
parlor  did  not  go.  The  young  fellow  had  been 
away  for  two  weeks,  and  the  girl’s  father  was 
willing  that  he  should  have  a fair  show ; but  this 
was  too  much,  and  at  last  he  went  to  the  head  of 
the  stairs  and  listened  a minute. 

“Mollie!”  he  called  sharply. 

“Yes,  papa,”  came  the  silvery  voice  of  his  child, 
with  a slightly  smothered  accent. 

“It  is  after  12  o’clock.” 

“Yes,  papa,  and  we  are  doing  all  we  can  to  ex- 
pedite the  accumulated  business.  We  will  adjourn 
by-and-by,  papa.” 


THE  WOtiLb^S 


§t4 

The  helpless  father,  unable  to  answer  the  argu- 
ment, returned  to  his  bed  in  tears. 


F?OW  lilNGOLN  ^ON  A ©ASB  PI^OM  HIS  ©AP^IP- 
NBI^ — LfAUGHABLE  ©OILE^T  IGNOI^ANGB. 

While  Judge  Logan,  of  Springfield,  111.,  was 
Lincoln’s  partner,  two  farmers,  who  had  a mis- 
understanding respecting  a horse  trade,  went  to 
law.  By  mutual  consent  the  partners  in  law  be- 
came antagonists  in  this  case.  On  the  day  of  the 
trial  Mr.  Logan,  having  bought  a new  shirt,  open 
in  the  back,  with  a huge  standing  collar,  dressed 
himself  in  extreme  haste,  and  put  on  the  shirt  with 
the  bosom  at  the  back,  a linen  coat  concealing  the 
blunder.  He  dazed  the  jury  with  his  knowledge 
of  ‘‘horse  points,”  and  as  the  day  was  sultry,  took 
off  his  coat  and  summed  up  in  his  shirt-sleeves. 

Lincoln  sitting  behind  him,  took  in  the  situation, 
and  when  his  turn  came,  remarked  to  the  jury : 

“Gentlemen,  Mr.  Logan  has  been  trying  for  over 
an  hour  to  make  you  believe  he  knows  more  about 
a horse  than  these  honest  old  farmers  who  are  wit- 
nesses. He  has  quoted  largely  from  his  ‘horse 
doctor,’  and  now,  gentlemen,  I submit  to  you, 
(here  he  lifted  Logan  out  of  his  chair,  and  turned 
him  with  his  back  to  the  jury  and  the  crowd,  at 
the  same  time  dipping  up  the  enormous  standing 


Wit  AND  WITS, 


375 


collar)  what  dependence  can  you  place  in  his  horse 
knowledge  when  he  has  not  sense  enough  to  put  on 
his  shirt  V 

The  roars  of  laughter  that  greeted  this  exhibi- 
tion, and  the  verdict  that  Lincoln  got  soon  after, 
gave  Logan  a permanent  prejudice  against  “bosom 
shirts.” 


(SONTI^ADIGIIIIONS. 

The  man  that  hath  no  music  ear 
May  grind  an  org^  still ; 

The  pugilist  who  takes  no  grain 
May  run  a handy  mill. 

The  man  who  never  struck  a soul 
May  yet  a striker  be ; 

The  man  who  never  trod  a deck 
May  yet  go  out  to  sea. 

A man  may  be  a labor  knight. 

Yet  not  work  after  dark ; 

A man  may  never  shoot  a gun. 
Yet  be  a man  of  mark. 

A woman  may  be  married  fast, 
And  always  be  amiss ; 

A girl  may  be  as  rich  as  mud, 

But  not  be  worth  a kiss. 


376 


THE  WORLD^S 


fflAMIE. 

“Mamie,”  said  a grammar-school  girl  to  a mem- 
ber of  the  graduating  class,  “have  you  finished  your 
essay?” 

“0,  yes,”  gushed  Mamie ; “and  it  is  too  lovely  for 
anything — a princess  slip  of  white  surah,  the  back 
cut  off  a little  below  the  waist  line,  and  full  breadths 
of  silk  gathered  in  so  as  to  hang  gracefully  over  the 
tornure,  and  three  bias  ruffles  on  the ” 

“Why,  what  are  your  talking  about?”  interrupted 
her  friend.  “I  mean,  have  you  finished  writing 
your  essay,  you  know?” 

“Er — no,”  said  Mamie,  her  enthusiasm  rapidly 
diminishing;  “but  I have  begun  it,  and  I wish  the 
awful  thing  was  in  Halifax!” 

“What’s  the  subject?” 

“ 'The  Curse  of  Slang.’  ” 

“Gracious ! Isn’t  that  a difficult  subiect  to  write 
up?” 

“Diflicult!  Well,  I should  giggle!  I’ll  have  to 
hump  myself  to  get  it  finished  in  time  for  the  com- 
mencement, and  I’ve  a good  notion  to  let  it  slide. 
I might  shut  up  the  Professor’s  optic  by  pleading 
illness,  but  I’m  not  that  sort  of  a hairpin.  But 
come,  waltz  up  into  my  room  and  look  at  my  stun- 
ning graduating  harness.  It’ll  paralyze  you, — 
Norristown  Herald. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


377 


Floof^ed  On  Prussian. 

He  had  studied  every  lexicon  from  Ancient  Mede 
to  Mexican, 

' Knew  Assyrian,  Sanscrit,  Greek; 

Knew  the  shape  of  sword  and  sandal  of  the  Visigoth 
and  Vandal, 

And  the  old  Etruscan  features  and  physique. 

He  could  write  a song  or  sermon  in  old  Celt  or 
ancient  German, 

And  sing  Italian  songs  and  roundelays. 

Describe  Tiglath-Pilezer,  the  herbivorous  Neb’ chad- 
nezzar. 

And  all  the  kings  and  queens  of  olden  days ; 

He  knew  Nimrod,  Noah,  Cyrus  and  the  monarchs 
of  Epirus, 

And  gave  scholarly  descriptions  of  their  deeds. 

He  could  lend  an  added  splendor  to  the  ancient 
witch  of  Endor, 

And  describe  the  early  monarchs  of  the  Swedes. 

But  when  he  turned  to  Eussian,  he  reeled  with  the 
concussion 

Of  a word  that  parched  and  paralyzed  and  stung, 

For  Ivan- Adamowski-  Shanki-Eanoff-Peter-  Squosh- 
kie 

Completely  tied  and  tangled  up  his  tongue. 

— Tid-Bits. 


378 


THE  WORTHS 


Safe  Blage. 

May  to  Flora  (both  daughters  of  lawyers) — Oh, 
Flora!  I have  just  received  a love-letter  from  my 
Charlie,  and  papa  forbids  the  correspondence,  and 
I do  want  so  much  to  keep  his  letter,  so  what  shall 
I do  to  keep  papa  from  getting  it  ? 

Flora — Why,  May,  I find  it  the  safest  to  put  such 
secrets  in  my  father’s  law  books.  They  are  never 
disturbed  there, 

©HE  SUMMEr? 

[boston  coueiek.] 

Though  her  hair  be  black  or  her  hair  be  red, 

Or  hei  eyes  be  hazel  or  brown. 

She’s  fairer  by  far  than  the  lily  or  rose. 

The  girl  with  the  muslin  gowm. 

The  haughty  queen,  in  her  royal  robes, 

With  her  scepter  and  golden  crown, 

Is  not  so  fair  in  the  month  of  June 
As  the  girl  with  the  muslin  gown. 

On  nothing  fairer  upon  the  earth 
The  sun  or  the  moon  looks  down; 

She’s  as  sweet  and  fresh  as  the  morning  breeze, 
The  girl  in  the  muslin  gown. 


THE  GIRL  WITH  THE  MUSLIN  GOWN. 


P.  378. 


UBRftfWf 
Of  THE 

UMIVER81TY  Of  MAWOIS 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


379 


Bl^IEP  ©OMIGALITIES. 

^‘Papa,  why  do  women  use  yeast  in  making 
bread?” 

‘‘To  make  it  rise,  my  son.” 

“But  why  do  they  want  to  make  it  rise,  papa?” 

“So  that  it  will  be  high  bread,  my  son.” 

A lad  was  sent  to  one  of  our  grocery  stores  for 
some  barley  for  soup,  but  he  forgot  what  he  was 
after,  and  said  he  thought  they  wanted  something 
for  soap,  and  so  the  obliging  proprietor  put  him  up 
five  cents’  worth  of  potash. 

Judson — Got  behind  with  your  rent,  you  say? 

Timpkins — Yes. 

Judson — What  is  it  iimn^To? 

Timpkins — MyT^'^J^fdr  .♦ 

At  the  Hoidicultural  exhibition — He — This  is  a 
lime  tree,  Clara.  But  you  are  not  looking. 

She — Yes,  Charles,  I see  it ; hut  I was  wondering 
how  they  extract  the  mortar  from  it. 

“The  circus  is  one  of  the  oldest  diversions  known 
to  man,”  says  an  exchange.  So  is  the  circus  joke. 

“This  is  a very  healthy  place,”  observed  a board- 
ing mistress. 

“Yes — for  chickens,”  said  the  boarder.  “I  have 
been  here  two  years  and  haven’t  seen  a dead  one 
yet.” 


380 


THE  WORLDS  S 


She  took  the  hint. 
It 


ral  that  “Songs  WithonI; 
written  by  Mendelssohn. 


Words 


If  they  had  S^ompose'd  I5y  Mendelsdaughter 

they  would  have  had  words. 

It  is  easy  enough  to  be  agreeable  in  society.  All 
you  have  to  do  is  to  listen  while  the  other  man 
talks.  If  the  other  man  is  a woman  you’ve  got  to 
listen  anyway. 

People  who  always  mind  their  own  business  in 
this  world  get  rich  faster  than  people  of  the  other 
kind  do,  but  they  lose  lots  of  fun. 

People  going  on  excursions  are  so  happy  to  get 
home  that  they  are  glad  they  went. 

The  red  flag  of  the  Anarchist,  like  that  of  the 
auctioneer,  should  be  a signal  that  everything 
under  it  is  to  be  knocked  down. 

The  “famous  green-corn  dance  of  the  Seminoles” 
is  described  by  a witness  as  a “wild,  grotesque 
series  of  leaps  and  contortions  to  the  wierd  music 
of  a dirge-like,  mournful  chant.”  Then,  so  far  as 
we  can  grasp  it,  it  seems  to  have  been  a weak  im- 
itation of  the  common  green-apple  dance  of  the 
pale  face,  with  the  painkiller  left  oiit. 

The  Anarchists  are  claiming  that  they  still  “hold 
their  own.”  Nobody  will  object  to  this.  It  is  only 


imm 

. Of  THE 
OHIVERSITY  Of  ftUHOtS 


A NEW  MATERIAL  FOR  BONNETS, 


P.  381, 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


381 


when  they  attempt  to  hold  some  other  fellow’s  own 
that  we  rise  to  expostulate. 


^ Hew  fflAJPEi^iAii  EOi^  BoNNEirs. 

“Miranda,  my  love  (hie),  there’s  a new  material 
been  found  (hie)  for  bonnets.” 

“What  is  it,  pray?” 

“Leathery  fungoid.  You  (hie)  soak  it  in  water 
and  it  stakes  any  (hie)  shape.  A great  saving,  don’t 
you  see?” 

“Yes.  I’ve  a suspieion  your  head  is  made  out 
of  it.  Go  soak  it  in  water.  It  may  not  alter  the 
shape,  but  will  be  likely  to  sober  you  up  a little. 
Hold  it  under  the  hydrant  for  an  hour  and  a half, 
dear.” — Philadeljphia  Call. 


^ HAI^F^OW  eSGAPE. 

“Are  we  all  here?”  inquired  Mr.  Brutal  Jones  of 
his  landlady  the  other  morning  at  the  breakfast 
table. 

“I  think  so;  one,  two,  three,  four;  yes,  you  are 
all  here,  I believe,”  and  she  smiled  sweetly;  “why?” 

“Nothing  much,  only  I see  by  the  morning  paper 
that  a human  skeleton  was  picked  up  just  outside 
the  city  limits.” 

The  smile  vanished. — Merchant  Traveler. 


382 


THE  WORTHS 


INGONSISITENGY. 

Sitting  with  charming  Mabel  at  the  play, 

I heard  a valorous  wooer  vainly  speak, 

And  saw  a pearly  teardrop  course  its  way 
Adown  the  pale  pink  velvet  of  her  cheek. 

“Alas!  thou  inconsistent  maid,”  thought  I, 

“Thou  weepest  on  beholding  him  forlorn. 

But,  when  before  thy  feet  I sue  and  sigh. 

Thou  laughest  all  my  ardent  vows  to  scorn!”. 

— Clinton  Scollard  in  Life, 

©HE  05ANJIIS  OP  A CQODEI^ATE  fflAN. 

He  said  he  had  no  wish  to  be  opulent,  with  a bank- 
book rotund,  and  distended,  and  corpulent; 
but  he  didn’t  wish  to  hve  like  the  primitive  - 
Quakers,  or  butchers,  or  bakers,  or  candle- 
stick-makers, but  in  a fine  brown-stone  sur- 
rounded by  statues,  and  set  in  a lawn  of  some 
forty- seven  acres. 

Applause  for  dear  clothing  was  not  worth  the  win- 
ning, he  desired  no  wardrobe  of  purple  and 
linen ; but  he  didn’t  wish  to  go  attired  hke  a 
sailor,  or  dress  in  a uniform  suit  hke  a jailer; 
and  all  that  he  wished  was  some  two  dozen 
changes  made  up  in  good  style  by  a fashion- 
able tailor. 


WIT  AND  WIT 


383 


He  wished  no  rich  viands  to  gladden  his  peptics, 
or  to  coddle  his  stomach  like  chronic  dyspep- 
tics ; hut  he  wished  a cuisine  and  a French 
cook  to  cater,  a professional  expert,  no  com- 
monplace waiter,  no  statuesque,  boarding- 
house, imbecile  bungler  to  scatter  his  chaos 
of  pie  and  potato. 

He  wished  no  small  army  of  liveried  dependents, 
no  uniformed  lackeys  and  cringing  attendants ; 
but  he  didn’t  wish  to  live  like  a hermit  or 
miser,  but  in  plentiful  leisure  as  better  and 
wiser;  and  some  twenty  servants  and  forty 
good  waiters  would  make  life  worth  living  for 
him  and  Eliza. — Lynn  Union. 


Fixing  Up. 

The  next  day  after  a man  moved  into  a town  in 
western  Dakota,  the  mayor  called  on  him  and  said : 

“Just  arrived  from  the  east,  I hear?” 

“Yes.” 

“Believe  your  name  is  Jones?” 

“That’s  it.” 

“No  title,  I suppose?” 

“None.” 

“Of  course  you  will  want  one  now,  but  I’ll  tell 
you  just  how  it  is;  we  haven’t  got  much  left  to 
select  from.  We  limited  each  title  to  five  persons. 


384 


THE  WORLD'^S 


and  we  already  have  five  colonels,  five  senators, 
five  governors,  five  judges,  and  so  on.  We  aren’t 
quite  full  on  majors  and  commodores,  however,  and 
you  can  take  your  choice.” 

“Well,  if  it’s  customary  I believe  I’ll  take 
major.” 

“All  right,  major.  Come  on  down  to  Judge 
Pott’s  poker  parlors  and  I’ll  introduce  you  to  Sen- 
ator Blow,  Gen.  McGore,  and  other  of  our  leading 
citizens.” — Estelline  (D.  T.)  Bell, 


fl  RAr^I^OW  eSGAPB. 

“Ah!”  she  said,  “I  loved  once.” 

“Did  you?” 

“ITes,  I thought  ne  was  a god,  a kind  of  superior 
creation.  My  parents  would  not  hear  of  the  match. 
The  more  thej^  objected  the  more  I loved  him.  We 
kept  up  a correspondence  secretly.  We  had  ar- 
ranged to  be  married.  My  parents  were  stern  and 
cruel,  but  I had  a bosom  friend,  who  was  married, 
and  she  had  arranged  that  the  ceremony  should 
take  place  at  her  house,  unknown  to  any  of  my 
family.  Three  days  before  I heard  strange  stories 
about  my  beloved.  I broke  off  the  engagement. 
He  came  to  the  house ; he  groveled'  on  his  knees 
before  me.  He  swore  by  all  the  old  and  several  new 
gods  that  he  loved  me,  and  me  alone,  I relented, 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


385 


and  the  wedding  was  to  come  off  at  the  home  of 
my  bosom  friend.” 

‘‘Well?” 

“The  day  before  the  wedding  my  bosom  friend’s 
husband  got  into  a convivial  crowd  and  drank  a lit- 
tle too  much.  In  a burst  of  good  humor  he  invited 
my  brother  to  the  wedding,  and  I was  securely 
locked  up  until  I was  brought  to  terms.” 

“And  now ” 

“Aiid  now  I’m  awfully  glad  of  it.” 


Y}E]^  ^AS  Good. 

A 4-year- old  miss  who  has  been  in  the  habit  of 
making  a daily  visit  to  her  music  teacher  via  the 
High  street  car  line  found  herself  on  a recent  morn- 
ing minus  the  customary  ticket  or  the  necessary 
three-cent  fare.  Nothing  daunted,  she  stopped  the 
car  at  the  usual  corner,  took  her  seat  and  quietly 
awaited  events.  The  rest  of  the  story  is  best  told 
in  her  own  words : 

“The  conductor,  he  came,  and  said  ‘Tickets, 
please.’  ‘I  haven’  any  this  morning.’  ‘Then  I 
must  have  three  cents.’  ‘But  I haven’t  any  money, 
either.’  ‘Where  are  you  going?’  ‘0,  I’m  going  to 
’Cademy  of  Music,  and  I want  to  stop  at  Dorrance 
street.’  ‘But  did  you  think  you  could  ride  without 


26 


386 


THE  WOBLHS 


a ticket  or  money?’  0,  yes,  ’cause  I always  pay 
when  I have  any  money.’  ” 

Her  credit  was  good  and  she  got  there. — Provi- 
dence Journal. 


eiGNiGs  Supplied. 

There  is  a down-town  grocery,  which,  among 
other  legends  in  the  window,  displays  this  sign: 
“Picnics  Supplied.” 

A meek-faced  young  man  went  into  this  store 
the  other  day,  and,  pointing  with  his  thumb  over 
his  shoulder  at  this  picnic  sign,  he  remarked  to  a 
salesman : 

“I’ll  take  one  with  about  one  girl,  please,  with 
the  requisite  allowance  of  champagne,  a few  tongue 
sandwiches,  and  a box  of  sardines,  and  no  bugs,  no 
flies,  no  grasshoppers.  Eemember — one  girl  will 
do.” 

“Wh-what  is  it  you  want,  sir?” 

“Why,  a picnic,  to  be  sure.  Don’t  you  advertise 
‘Picnics  supphed’  in  the  window?” 

For?Gir^0^-^ABiT  Shbajpi^b. 

“That  gentleman  seems  to  have  a hard  tirne 
finding  his  seat;  must  be  near-sighted.” 

“Not  at  all.  Only  another  proof  of  the  force  of 
habit.” 


UBoar 

Of  THE 

umvERsrry  or  ituHOis 


GETTING  AT  THE  PASS'WORD. 


P.  387. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


387 


‘‘How  so?” 

“He  used  to  be  an  usher.” 


Getiping  at^ifhb  Bass-OJoi^d. 

An  amusing  story  is  attributed  to  the  late  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  about  the  Iowa  First,  and  the 
changes  which  a certain  pass-word  underwent 
about  the  time  of  the  battle  of  Springfield.  One 
of  the  Dubuque  officers,  whose  duty  it  was  to  fur- 
nish the  guards  with  a pass-word  for  the  night, 
gave  the  word  “Potomac.”  A German  on  guard, 
not  comprehending  distinctly  the  difference  between 
B’s  and  P’s,  understood  it  to  be  “Bottomic,”  and 
this,  on  being  transferred  to  another,  was  corrupted 
into  “Buttermilk.”  Soon  afterwards  the  officer 
who  had  given  the  word  wished  to  return  through 
the  hues,  and  on  approaching  a sentinel  was  ordered 
to  halt,  and  the  word  demanded.  He  gave  the 
word  “Potomac.” 

“Nicht  right;  you  don’t  pass  mit  me  dis  way.” 

“But  this  is  the  word,  and  I will  pass.” 

“No,  you  stan’,”  at  the  same  time  placing  a bay- 
onet at  his  breast,  in  a manner  that  told  the  officer 
that  “Potomac”  didn’t  pass  in  Missouri. 

“What  is  the  word,  then?” 

“Buttermilk.” 

“Well,  then,  buttermilk.” 


388 


THE  WOHLH^ 


•‘Dat  is  right;  now  you  pass  mit  yourself  all 
about  your  pisiness.” 

There  was  then  a general  overhauling  of  the 
pass-word,  and  the  difference  between  Potomac 
and  Buttermilk  being  understood,  the  joke  became 
one  of  the  laughable  incidents  of  the  campaign. 


She  Biitied  jhhb  ©lei^K- 

Lawyer’s  Wife — How  is  it,  Mr.  De  Puyster?  I 
understand  Mr.  Bond  is  terribly  severe  with  you  at 
times  ? 

Lawyer’s  Clerk  (who  is  a short-hand  writer)— 
That  doesn’t  begin  to  express  it,  Mrs.  Bond.  Some 
days  when  he  has  lots  of  work  on  hand  he  dictates 
to  me  all  day.  It’s  terrible. 

Lawyer’s  Wife — Well,  I’m  sorry,  Mr.  De  Puy- 
ster. I see  I shall  have  to  be  less  severe  with  him 
at  home. 


©ef^ihainly  Horn. 

Uncle  Jake — Peter,  I hears  you  pays  your  ’specs 
to  my  darter.  Now  ef  you  means  bizness,  wot  is 
your  bizness? 

Peter — I’se  keepin’  hooks  for  Dobson  & Co. 

Uncle  Jake — Um!  Ah!  Does  you  keep  ’em  in 
single  or  double  entry,  Peter? 


“ TINK  i’d  keep  WALYBLES  IN  THE  ENTRY?” 


P.  388. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


389 


Peter — Ain’t  no  sich  fool  chile  as  dat.  I puts 
’em  in  de  safe  down  cellah  ebry  night.  Tink  I’d 
keep  walybles  in  de  entry? 


^ Dippbi^bngb. 

A member  in  a silver  speech  slapped  at  the  na- 
tional banks,  and  in  a loud  voice  exclaimed: 

‘‘What  is  the  difierence  between  my  note  and  a 
national  bank  note?”  '' 

^‘You  can  buy  something  with  a bank  note,” 
chipped  in  an  opponent,  before  the  Texan  could 
answer  bis  own  question. 


©HB  ©BNDBI^  liANGUAGB. 

Buxom  Widow  (at  evening  party) — Do  you 
understand  the  language  of  flowers.  Dr.  Crusty? 

Dr.  Crusty  (an  old  bachelor) — No,  ma’am. 

Widow — You  don’t  know  if  yellow  means  jeal- 
ousy? 

Dr.  Crusty — No,  ma’am.  Yellow  means  bill- 
iousness. 


you  ©AN’T  DODGB  It. 

•‘You  can’t  avoid  a stroke  of  lightning  by  dodg- 
ing,” says  a newspaper  item.  This  is  a very 
long-beaded  statement  and  will  probably  cause  a 


390 


THE  WORTHS 


sensation  when  it  gets  out.  It  is  equally  impossi- 
ble to  avoid  a stroke  of  lightning  by  going  out  the 
back  door  and  telling  the  office  boy  to  say  you  are 
off  on  a fishing  trip  and  won’t  be  back  for  two 
weeks. — Estelline  (D.  T.)  Bell. 


ffliGHT  Find  Some  FJemedy. 

“General  Hender^om  I see  by  the  paper,  is  one 
of  the  few  congreaPH^vho  have  sonorous  voices.” 

“Indeed h^tdie  something  for  it!” 
— Tid-Bits. 


©HBODOI^B  ©HOMAS  flr^iPISiIiIGALLY 
©ONSIDBI^BD. 

“What  nonsense  1 Herr  Musickwitz  says  Theo- 
dore Thomas  is  not  regarded  as  a musician  in 
Cincinnati.” 

“There  may  be  something  in  that.  Thomas 
never  was  a beer-drinking  man,  you  know.” 


©EGUlilAI^IJIiIBS  OP  SNGIjISH  liAW. 

Clara — What  awfully  queer  people  those  Enghsh 
are.  They  won’t  let  people  marry  after  a certain 
hour  in  the  morning,  and  a woman  can’t  marry  her 
brother-in-law,  and  dear  knows  what  all. 


OF  TKE 
BNtVERSiTy  WHIWOIS 


/ 


THE  CHEMISTRY  OF  FOOD. 


P.  391. 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


391 


Dora — Yes,  and  that  reminds  me  they’ve  been 
trying  to  regulate  the  fashions  lately. 

“I  shouldn’t  wonder  a bit.  In  what  way?” 

“I  don’t  know  exactly,  but  the  paper  says  if  Mr. 
Gladstone’s  bill  had  gone  through  they  would  have 
had  trouble  with  the  Ulsters.” 


©HE  ©HBMISIPI^Y  OP  FOOD. 

Mr.  Klinks — I don’t  see  why  you  eat  so  much  of 
that  stuff.  It  will  ruin  your  health. 

Mrs.  Klinks — It  is  the  very  best  confectionery  in 
the  city,  dear. 

“It’s  more  than  half  glucose.” 

“What’s  that?” 

“It’s  made  out  of  corn.” 

“Is  it  very  unwholesome?” 

“Rank  poison.” 

“Well,  I shouldn’t  wonder.  That  bottle  you 
brought  home  last  night  had  the  word  “corn”  on 
it.” 


Uppei^  ©endom  Rosing  I^ps  Sinews. 

Mrs.  Societie — This  fashion  magazine  says  the 
male  domestic  servant  is  rapidly  disappearing  from 
the  best  houses. 

Mr.  Societie — Yes,  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  the 
daughters  are  disappearing  with  them. 


392 


THE  WORTHS 


She  Foi^goit  ©hat  Dr^ESS  ©oats  ^ei^e 
OUTI^E. 

“Mrs.  Uppercrust,  I am  ashamed  of  you!” 

“Why,  George,  dear,  what  have  I been  doing?” 
“The  idea  of  talking  before  all.  the  company  in 
that  effusive,  flirty  way  with  that  young,  bald' 
headed ” 

“Hush,  dear,  that  is  Lord  Lion.” 

“No,  it  isn’t;  that  is  the  head  waiter.” 


Some  ©ause  flLAi^M. 

First  Sociahst — I hobe  effry  labor  men  in  de 
gundry  vill  speag  oud  aginsed  dot  labor  in  prisons. 

Second  Socialist — I speag  aginsed  dose  hrison 
labor  at  effry  meedings.  It  is  pad  enough  to  pud  a 
man  in  jail.  He  should  haf  no  vork. 

“Yah.  How  you  dink  dose  Chicago  trials 
come  oud?” 


©HiGAGO  Still  in  the  Lead. 

Eastern  Miss — My  ma  is  in  Europe  and  my  pa  is 
in  New  York,  and  they  do  all  their  corresponding 
by  cable. 

Chicago  Miss — Pooh,  that’s  nothing.  Why,  we 
do  all  our  marketing  by  cable, 


SHE  FORGOT  THAT  DRESS-COATS  WERE  OUTRE. 


P.  392. 


Of  THE 

EINIVCRUTY  ormjNots 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


393 


fiN  OPPOI^JTUNE  fflOMBNiP. 

Mr.  Faintheart — Do  yon  think  it  would  be  safe 
for  me  to  approach  your  pa  on  khe  subject? 

Miss  Fair  Lady — Oh,  perfectly,  he  has  the  gout 
again. 


flPPI^BGIAlITING  THB  ^HY  AND  OJHBI^BBOI^B. 

Great  Actor — I see  that  the  noted  artist,  Alma 
Tadema,  is  to  paint  Mary  Anderson. 

Great  Actress — Indeed;  for  what  performance? 

ex  P LA  I N I A Tiioil  B A N G B S. 

Brother  Jonathan — I can’t  understand  what  you 
say.  What  have  you  got  in  your  mouth? 

Canuck — Wo’ms  fo’  bait. 


Unappi^bgiaipbd  Gallan^fi^y. 

Ben:  Perley  Poore  in  Boston  Budget:  Tom 
Corwin  asserted  one  day  in  his  committee-room 
that  it  was  never  safe  to  interfere  between  husband 
and  wife,  and  in  support  of  his  declaration  narrated 
an  instance  which  occurred  when  he  was  animated 
by  the  ardor  and  chivalry  of  youth.  Traveling  in 
a little-frequented  rural  district  he  came  upon  a 
cabin  from  behind  which  he  heard  the  angry  voice 


394 


THE  WORTHS 

of  a man  mingled  with  the  screams  of  a woman 
and  at  regular  intervals  a hickory  singing  through 
the  air  as  if  well  He  rode  round  to  get 

sight  of  the  ^ ■'all-  tMs  lilamor,  when  he  saw 

a burly-looking  fellow  thrashing  his  wife  hke  fury 
with  a stick  too  formidable  to  be  within  the  mean- 
ing of  the  statute.  On  seeing  our  friend  the 
belligerent  suspended,  the  ‘‘shower  of  timber” 
ceased  to  fall,  and  there  was  a great  calm  of  a few 
moments’  duration.  The  young  man,  whose  wrath 
had  suddenly  waxed  hot  against  the  cruel  husband, 
' cried  out:  “You  brute!  you  rascal!  throw  down 
that  whip,  and  don’t  touch  that  woman  again,  or 
I’ll  wear  it  out  over  your  own  ugly  carcass ! you 
savage,  you!”  Who  should  respond  to  this  vahant 
defiance  but  the  injured  lady  herself.  Turning  her 
blowzed  hair  out  of  her  face,  and  giving  her  fist  a 
portentous  shake,  she  squalled  out:  “He’s  as  good 
as  you  are,  you  gawky,  good-for-nothing  creeter, 
you!” 

IOhy  She  Oughjp  to  Weai^  Glasses. 

“How  old  would  you  take  me  to  be,  Mr.  Snooks?” 
she  lisped,  looking  unutterable  things  at  him. 

“I  dunno,”  he  replied,  twisting  nervously  about 
in  his  chair. 

“I’m  awfully  old,  I assure  you.  I’ve  seen  twenty- 
three  summers!” 


vmmr 

.. 

UWIVERSITY  or  tUINOtS 


BUSINESS  IS  BUSINESS. 


P 395- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


395 


“Then  yon  ought  to  wear  glasses,”  he  replied, 
earnestly. 

“Why,  Mr.  Snooks!  glasses  at  twenty-three?” 

“Yes;  your  eyesight  must  be  bad.” 

“I’m  sure  I don’t  know  why  you  should  think 
so,”  she  pouted. 

“Because  I’m  afraid  about  twenty  summers  have 
gone  by  you  that  you  haven’t  seen.” 


business  Is  Business. 

Mr.  Eosenschweizer  (entering  a country  store) — 
Ah,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Jayhawk?  How  vas 
drade?  Dake  a cigar.  Beautiful  vether,  ain’t  it? 
Vant  any  goots  in  our  line,  Mr.  Jayhawk? 

Mr.  J. — No,  reckon  not.  Store  is  all  stocked  up. 

Mr.  E. — Is  dot  so?  I’m  very  sorry.  May  I 
drouble  you  to  give  me  dot  cigar?  I got  to  gif  it 
to  Mr.  Gawk  agross  der  vay. — The  Bavihler. 


■ FOUI^  OP  ©HEM. 

Gen.  Sherwin  was  examining  men  for  the  police 
force  a few  days  since  under  the  new  civil  service 
rules.  One  candidate  was  asked  what  four  penal 
institutions  there  were  in  Boston.  He  replied 
promptly:  “The  jail,  state’s  prison,  the  House  of 
Industry,  and  the  Institute  of  Technology!” 


396 


THE  WORTHS 


no  FJELIEP  in  SlGHip. 

Smith — That  dog  of  yours  keeps  me  awake 
nights,  howling. 

Jones — Why,  I have  no  dog.  It  must  be  my 
daughter  singing. 

Smith — Is  that  so?  Excuse  me.  I am  sorry. 
I don’t  suppose  she  can  be  shot,  eh? — Judge. 


(Joi^E  ON  (Shase. 

One  day,  while  the  American  war  was  going  on, 
and  Secretary  Chase  was  issuing  the  paper  money, 
know  as  “greenbacks,”  in  large  quantities,  he  found 
upon  a desk  in  his  office  a drawing  of  an  ingenious 
invention  for  turning  gold  eagles  into  “greenbacks,” 
with  a portrait  of  himself  feeding  it  with  “yeller 
boys,”  at  one  end,  while  the  government  currency 
came  out  at  the  other  end,  flying  about  hke  leaves 
of  Autum.  fjiyii^y^ie  was  examining  the  drawing, 
Presidep4^^^^J^;,Q^^  and,  recognizing  the 
likeness  ofme  secretary, 'exclaimed : 

“Capital  joke,  isn’t  it,  Mr.  Chase?” 

“A  joke,”  said  the  irate  financier,  “I’d  give  a 
thousand  dollars  to  know  who  left  that  here.” 

“Would  you,  indeed?”  said  the  President,  “and 
which  end  would  you  pay  from?” 

The  answer  is  not  “recorded.” 


OF  TM 

UNtVEfISiTY  OFKUNOtS 


THE  SWEET  GIRL  GRADUATE. 


P-  397- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


397 


P RBGESSAI^Y  gl^EGAUTION. 

Small  boy  (to  policeman  in  front  of  a saloon) — 
“Hey!  Hold  yer  breath;  here  comes  der  rounds- 
man.”— The  Judge. 


©HE  Sweet  Gii^L-Gr^ADUATE. 

When  the  merry  month  of  May, 

With  its  flowers,  is  over. 

And  the  thrush’s  roundelay 
Echoes  from  the  clover; 

When  all  Nature  is  atune. 

And  each  bird  discloses 
That  it  is  the  month  of  June, 
Garlanded  with  roses — 

Then  it  is  we  fondly  wait, 

For  the  sweet  girl-graduate. 

With  her  essay  ribbon-bound. 

Manner  shy  but  winning, 

Blushingly  she  looks  around. 

Ere  she  reads,  beginning: 

“Out  upon  the  sea  of  life” 

Don’t  you  recognize  it!  ^ 

Hackneyed  from  its  years  of  strife. 

Just  the  same  we  prize  it. 

Heaven  send  a kindly  fate 

To  the  sweet  girl-graduate! — Tid-Bits. 


398 


TEE  WORLES 


fl  Pleasant  I^egeption. 

Employer  (to  collector) — See  Mr.  Smith? 
Collector — Oh,  yes. 

Employer — Was  he  annoyed  at  yonr  calling  upon 
him. 

Collector — Not  a bit.  He  asked  me  to  call 
again. 


Gi^eajt  ©imes  on  the  I^ivei^. 

‘'Low  water?”  observed  an  old  river  man. 
“Why,  the  present  stage  isn’t  a marker  to  what  it 
was  in  the  summer  of  1863.  Then  it  was  low 
water.  I was  on  the  old  Savannah,  a stern -wheel 
boat  that  used  to  run  between  St.  Louis  and  St. 
Paul.  It  got  too  low  for  us  and  the  old  boat  was 
tied  up  here  in  St.  Paul  after  being  fifteen  days 
making  the  trip  up  the  river.  Why,  it  was  so 
blamed  low  that  the  old  wheel  was  kept  going  back- 
ward half  the  time  trying  to  throw  water  under  the 
boat  so  as  to  float  her.” 


©HE  Soil  ^as  Uei^y  ©hin. 

There  was  hving  in  the  edge  of  Wayland  a few 
years  ago,  a quaint  and  somewhat  original  old 
gentleman  of  the  name  of  Adams,  known  to  all  the 
neighborhood  for  miles  around  by  his  harmless  but 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


399 


sometimes  amusing  peculiarities.  ‘‘Gus”  Somerby, 
whose  early  death  a few  months  ago  deprived  the 
Middlesex  bar  of  one  of  its  brightest  lawyers  and 
society  of  one  of  the  best  of  good  fellows,  used  to 
tell  a story  about  the  old  gentleman  which  will 
bear  repeating. 

The  Squire  was  driving  towards  Wayland  early 
one  summer  morning  when  he  discovered  Mr. 
Adams  making  his  way  afield  with  the  necessary 
haying-tools — a jug  and  a scythe — and  stopped  to 
have  a chat  with  him.  The  soil  in  that  part  of  the 
country  is  very  thin  and  sandy,  and  the  hay  crop 
always  light,  and  the  good-humored  lawyer  took 
occasion  to  remark  upon  the  fact  and  to  pity  the 
farmers  who  were  obliged  to  wring  a scanty  hving 
from  such  barren  acres.  The  old  gentleman  heard 
him  patiently  for  a time,  but  at  length  broke  out : 

“Look  here.  Squire,  you’re  wasting  your  sym- 
pathy; I ain’t  so  cussed  poor  as  you  think  I am — 
I don’t  own  this  farm.” 

Keturning  towards  evening  “Gus”  looked  out 
again  for  the  old  man,  and  at  length  discovered 
him  crawling  on  all  fours  between  the  scattered 
haycocks  towards  home — a method  of  locomotion 
rendered  necessary  by  the  faithfulness  with  which 
he  had  attended  to  the  jug  part  of  his  outfit  during 
the  day.  Stopping  his  horse  the  lawyer  hailed  the 
old  gentleman  and  offered  to  come  over  and  assist 


400 


THE  WORTHS 


him  to  his  feet.  ^Yith  as  much  dignity  as  his  atti- 
tude and  general  situation  would  permit  the  fallen 
agriculturist  waved  him  away  and  shouted  hack : 

“Keep  off  o’  here!  ’tain’t  safe!  .The  'soil’s  so 
thin  here,  now  the  crop’s  off,  that  it  won’t  bear  a 
man  endways;  much  as  ever  it’ll  keep  me  up  flat- 
ways!” 


Shy  G^upBiSur^pi^iSED  ©hem. 

the  tea-table,  “young 
Jordan  was  out  driving  with  Miss  Popinjoy  the 
other  evening  and  liis  horse  ran  away.  They  were, 
both  thrown  out  and  the  buggy  was  smashed  to 
pieces.  It  was  a providential  escape  for  both  of 
them ; hut  I can’t  understand  how  the  young  man 
came  to  lose  control  of  his  horse.” 

“He  must  have  been  driving  with  one  hand,” 
flippantly  suggested  the  minister’s  eldest  son — a 
wild  rake  of  a boy. 

“Or  perhaps  he  had  the  reins  around  his  neck,” 
said  Edith,  a shy  young  beauty  of  16,  with  a charm- 
ingly modest  mein.  And  then  everybody  exclaimed 
in  chorus: 

“Why,  Edith!” 


Of  TMC 
tMOVIWITY  0#  ittINOtS 


I 


BILL  NYE  CONDOLES  WITH  CLEVELAND. 


P.  401. 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


401 


GROVER  CLEVELAND. 


Bill  Uyb  condoles  with  i^lbyeland. 

SUKPKISE  EXPKESSED  THAT  THE  PKESIDENT  SHOULD  TAKE 
A MOTHEK-IN-LAW  INTO  HIS  CABINET  AND  ADD 
HOUSEKEEPING  TO  HIS  OTHEK  AGONY. 

Hudson,  Wis.,  June  3,  1886. 
The  Hon.  Grover  Cleveland.,  Washington^  D.  C.: 

My  Dear  Sir:  You  have  now  assumed  anew 
duty  and  taken  upon  yourself  an  additional  respon- 
sibility. Not  content  with  the  great  weight  of 
national  affairs,  sufficient  to  crush  any  other  pachy- 
derm, you  have  cheerfully  and  almost  gleefully 
become  a married  man.  While  I cannot  agree 
with  you  politically,  Grover,  I am  forced  to  admire 
your  courage. 

This  morning  a new  life  opens  out  to  you — the 
life  of  a married  man.  It  is  indeed  a humiliating 
situation.  To  be  a jnesident  of  the  United  States, 
the  roustabout  of  a free  people,  is  a trying  situa- 


402 


TEE  WO  RLE  8 


tion ; but  to  be  a newly  married  president,  married 
in  the  full  glare  of  official  hfe,  with  the  eye  of  a 
divided  constituency  upon  you,  is  to  place  yourself 
where  nerve  is  absolutely  essential. 

I,  too,  am  married,  but  not  under  such  trying 
circumstances.  Others  have  been  married  and  still 
lived,  but  it  has  remained  for  you,  Mr.  President, 
young  as  you  are,  to  pose  as  a newly  wedded  presi- 
dent and  to  take  your  new  mother-in-law  into  the 
cabinet  with  you.  For  this  reason,  I say  freely 
that  to  walk  a slack  rope  across  the  moist  brow  of 
Niagara  and  carry  a nervous  man  in  a wffieelbarrow 
sinks  into  a mere  commonplace.  Daniel  playing 
“tag”  with  a denful  of  half-starved  hons  becomes  a 
historic  cipher,  and  the  Hebrew  children,  sitting 
on  a rosy  bed  of  red-hot  chnkers  in  the  fiery  fur- 
nace, are  almost  forgotten. 

With  a large  wad  of  civil  service  wedged  in 
among  your  back  teeth,  a larger  fragment,  perhaps, 
than  you  were  prepared  to  masticate  when  you  bit 
it  off ; vdth  an  agonized  southern  democracy  and  a 
clamorous  northern  constituency;  with  disappoint 
ment  poorly  concealed  among  your  friends  and 
hilarity  openly  expressed  by  your  enemies ; with  the 
snarl  of  the  vanquished  Mr.  Davis,  who  was  at  one 
time  a sort  of  president  himself,  as  he  rolls  up 
future  majorities  for  your  foes;  with  a lot  of  shai’p- 
witted  jouiTiahsts  walking  all  over  you  every  twen- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


403 


ty-four  hours  and  climbing  up  your  stalwart  frame 
with  their  telegraph  repair  boots  on,  I am  surprised, 
Grover,  honestly,  as  between  man  and  man,  that 
you  should  have  tried  to  add  housekeeping  to  all 
this  other  agony.  Had  you  been  young  and  tender 
under  the  wings  I might  have  understood  it,  but 
you  must  admit,  in  the  quiet  and  sanctity  of  your 
own  home,  Grover,  that  you  are  no  gosling.  You 
have  arrived  at  man’s  estate.  You  have  climbed 
the  barbed- wire  fence  which  separates  the  flufi*  and 
bloom  and  blossom  and  bumble-bees  of  impetuous 
youth  from  the  yellow  fields  and  shadowy  orchards 
of  middle  life.  You  now  stand  in  the  full  glare  of 
life’s  meridian.  You  are  entering  upon  a new  ex- 
perience. Possibly  you  think  that  because  you  are 
president  the  annoyances  peculiar  to  the  life  of  a 
new,  green  groom  will  not  reach  you.  Do  not  fool 
yourself  in  this  manner.  Others  have  made  the 
same  mistake.  Position,  wealth  and  fame  cannot 
shut  out  the  awkward  and  trying  circumstances 
which  attend  the  married  man  even  as  the  sparks 
are  prone  to  fly  upward. 

It  will  seem  odd  to  you  at  first,  Mr.  President, 
after  the  afi'airs  of  the  nation  have  been  put  aside 
for  the  day  and  the  government  fire  proof  safe 
locked  up  for  the  night,  to  go  up  to  your  boudoir  and 
converse  with  a bride,  with  one  corner  of  her  mouth 
full  of  pins.  A man  may  write  a pretty  fair  mes- 


404 


THE  W0RLH8 


sage  to  congress,  one  that  will  be  accepted  and 
printed  all  over  the  country,  and  yet  he  may  not  he 
fitted  to  hold  a conversation  with  one  corner  of  a 
woman’s  mouth  while  the  other  is  filled  with  pins. 
To  some  men  it  is  given  to  he  great  as  statesmen, 
while  to  others  it  is  given  to  be  fluent  conversa- 
tionalists under  these  circumstances. 

Mr.  President,  I may  be  taking  a great  hberty  in 
writing  to  you  and  touching  upon  your  private 
affairs,  hut  I noticed  that  everybody  else  was  doing 
it  and  so  I have  nerved  myself  up  to  write  you, 
having  once  been  a married  man  myself,  though 
not,  as  I said,  under  the  same  circumstances. 
AVhen  I was  married  I was  only  a plain  justice  of 
the  peace,  plodding  quietly  along  and  striving  to  do 
my  duty.  You  was  then  sheriff  of  your  county. 
Little  did  we  think  in  those  days  that  now  you 
would  be  a freshly  married  president  and  I the 
author  of  several  pieces  which  have  been  printed 
in  the  papers.  Little  did  we  think  then,  when  I 
was  a justice  of  the  peace  in  AYyoming  and  you  a 
sheriff  in  New  York,  that  to-day  your  timothy 
lawn  would  be  kicked  all  to  pieces  by  your  admir- 
ing constituents,  while  I would  be  known  and  loved 
wherever  the  Enghsh  language  is  tampered  vdth. 

So  we  have  risen  together,  you  to  a point  from 
which  you  may  be  easily  observed  and  flayed  alive 
by  the  newspapers,  while  I am  the  same  pleasant, 


WIT  AND  W/TS. 


405 


unassuming,  gentlemanly  friend  of  the  poor  that  I 
was  when  only  a justice  of  the  peace  and  compara- 
tively unknown. 

I cannot  close  this  letter  without  expressing  a 
wish  that  your  married  life  may  be  a joyous  one,  as 
the  paper  at  Laramie  has  said,  “and  that  no  cloud 
may  ever  come  to  mar  the  horizon  of  your  wedded 
bliss.”  (This  sentence  is  not  my  own.  I copy  it 
verbatim  from  a wedding  notice  of  my  own  written 
by  a western  journalist  who  is  now  at  the  Old 
Woman’s  Home.) 

Mr.  President,  I hope  you  will  not  feel  that 
I have  been  too  forward  in  writing  to  you  personal- 
ly over  my  own  name.  I mean  to  do  what  is  best 
for  you.  You  can  truly  say  that  all  I have  ever 
done  in  this  way  has  been  for  your  good.  I speak 
in  a plain  way  sometimes,  but  I don’t  beat  about 
the  bush.  I see  that  you  do  not  want  to  have  any 
engrossed  bills  sent  to  you  for  a couple  of  weeks. 

That’s  the  way  I was.  I told  all  my  creditors  to 
withhold  their  engrossed  bills  during  my  honey- 
moon, as  I was  otherwise  engrossed.  This  remark 
made  me  a great  many  friends  and  added  to  my 
large  circle  of  creditors.  It  was  afterward  printed 
in  a foreign  paper  and  explained  in  a supplement  of 
eight  pages. 

We  are  all  pretty  well  here  at  home.  I may  go 
to  Wasliiugton  tins  fall  if  I can  sell  a block  of  stock 


406 


THE  WORTHS 


in  the  Pauper’s  Dream,  a rich  gold  claim  of  mine 
on  Elk  mountain.  It  is  a very  rich  claim,  but 
needs  capital  to  develo]^  it.  (This  remark  is  not 
original  with  me.  I quote  from  an  exchange.) 

If  I do  come  over  to  Washington  do  not- let  that 
make  any  diflerence  in  your  plans.  If  I thought 
your  wife  would  send  out  to  the  neighbors  and  bor- 
row dishes  and  such  things  on  my  account  I would 
not  go  a step. 

Just  stick  your  head  out  of  the  ^^indow  and 
whistle  as  soon  as  the  cabinet  is  gone  and  I ^dll 
come  up  there  and  spend  the  evening. 

Eememher  that  I have  not  grown  cold  toward 
you  just  because  you  have  married.  You  will  find 
me  the  kind  of  a friend  who  will  not  desert  you  just 
when  you  are  in  trouble.  Yours,  as  heretofore,  _ 

Hill  Nye. 

P.  S. — I send  you  to-day  a card-receiver.  It 
looks  like  silver.  Do  not  let  your  wife  hear  on  too 
hard  when  she  pohshes  it.  I was  afraid  you  might 
try  to  start  into  keeping  house  without  a card-re- 
ceiver, so  I bought  this  yesterday.  When  I got 
married  I forgot  to  buy  a card-receiver,  and  I guess 
we  would  have  frozen  to  death  before  we  could 
have  purchased  one,  hut  friends  were  more  thought- 
ful, and  there  were  nine  of  them  among  the  gifts. 
If  you  decide  that  it  would  not  he  proper  for  you 
to  receive  presents,  you  may  return  the  card  re- 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


407 


ceiver  to  me  or  put  it  in  the  cellar-way  till  I come 
over  there  this  fall.  B.  N. 


©LEYEIiAND'S  ©miiE. 

A pretty  story,  if  one  could  believe  it,  is  told  by 
the  Paris  correspondent  of  a Vienna  paper.  A 
short  time  ago  a matinee  musicale  was  given  by 
the  Duchess  Lamotte,  and  among  the  guests  was 
the  charming  bride-elect  of  President  Cleveland, 
then  in  Paris  completing  her  trousseau.  The  young 
lady  was  the  object  of  many  marks  of  distinction, 
the  high  aristocracy  surrounded  her,  and  there  was 
much  talk  of  her  position.  One  lady,  the  daugh- 
ter-in-law of  the  Duchess  de  Persigny,  condoled 
with  Miss  Folsom  because  she  would  have  no  title 
as  the  wife  of  a republican  president. 

“All  would  be  well,  only  you  will  have  no  title,” 
said  she;  “y^^  called  Mrs.  Cleveland.” 

“But  that  name  is  only  for  strangers,”  was  the 
answer  of  the  fair  American ; “the  president  has  for 
intimacy  conferred  upon  me  a very  particular  title.” 

Everybody  looked  up  curiously,  and,  blushing 
deeply.  Miss  Folsom  added:  “He  calls  me — his 
darling.  Can  a wife  desire  a better  title?” 

The  hostess  embraced  her  amiable  guest,  remark- 
ing : “You  are  right,  and  you  appear  to  me  as  if 
you  would  keep  the  title  to  the  end  of  your  life.” 


CONTENTS. 


A. 

About  So 227 

Absent-minded,  He  was  Kather 262 

Account  Nearly  Balanced,  The 238 

Advantage,  A Decided  127 

Advertisement,  A Taking : 225 

Advertiser,  An  Enterprising 82 

Aged  Indeed 379 

Agreeable,  How  to  be 380 

Alarm,  Some  Cause  for 392 

Algebra,  Had  Been'in 65 

America,  How  They  Might  Have  Kept 241 

Amusement 209 

Anarchist  Claims 380 

Ancestry,  Jerrold .204 

Appreciating  the  Why  and  Wherefore 393 

Arbitration,  He  Wished 238 

Ardor,  Damped 216 

Arguments,  A Knock-down 135 

Arguments  for  Economy,  A Convincing 255 

Assessment  Plan,  The 366 

Assistance,  He  Wanted 262 

Attorney’s  Last  Hope,  An,  Jerrold 252 

B 

Bachelors  and  Flirts,  Josh  Billings 173 

Bad  for  Yale 251 

Ballad,  A Simple 278 

Bank,  A Convenient 63 

Banking  Experience,  Old  Ned’s,  Opie  P.  BeiJ 32 

Bars  Well-named 29 

Baseball  Prizes 93 

Beating  a Conductor 175 


409 


410 


THE  WORLH& 


Beaux,  The  Two lU 

Beecher,  Mark  Twain  on 69 

Beggar,  A Model,  Jerrold ^.252 

Best  Days,  Seen  Her 288 

Best  Way  Out,  The 293 

Bicyclist,  A Bothered 238 

Big  Hat  Nuisance,  The 220 

Bill  Nye  Condoles  with  Cleveland 401 

Bill  Nye  Discovers  a Man  with  an  Idea  of  Running  a Hotel 342 

Bill  Nye’s  New  Biography  of  Galileo T. . .361 

Bill  Nye  on  the  Cow  Industry 96 

Bitten,  The  Biter 92 

Blunder,  A Great  Man’s 211 

Body  and  Mind,  Jeirold 249 

Bonnets,  New  Material  for 381 

Boston  Child’s  Wisdom,  A 50 

Bostonese  for  the  D.  T 28 

Bothering  a Boaster 320 

Boy,  A Too  Clever 231 

Boy’s  Essay  on  Columbus,  A 259 

Boy  “Forty-niner,”  A 29 

Brave  and  Beautiful 208 

Bred  on  the  Boards,  Jerrold 204 

Bridal  Gloves,  The  Correct  Thing  in 248 

Brief  Comicalities 241,  379 

Burned  Long  Enough,  It  Had 277 

Business  is  Business 395 

Business,  Merely  a Matter  of 271 

Business  with  Her,  A 24 

Butler,  Ben 255 


C 

Calisthenics .328 

Capers,  Funny 267 

Capers  of  the  Muses 290 

Care-Banishers 250 

Cat-echisery 114 

Celebration,  A Surfeit  of 250 

Certainly  Not 388 

Change,  A Needed  94 

Chase,  A Joke  on  Secretary 396 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


411 


Chat,  A Quiet 103 

Chicago,  Columbus  Provided  for 64 

Chicago  Still  in  the  Lead 392 

Chinese  Boycott,  Suffering  from  the 271 

Chromo,  Style  of  a 255 

Circumstance,  A Rather  Strange 224 

Clara’s  Presence,  Right  in 81 

Classical  Course,  A 85 

Clerk,  She  Pitied  the 388 

Cleveland,  Anecdote  of  Grover 258 

Cleveland,  Bill  Nye  Condoles yvith 401 

Cleveland’s  Titles,  Mrs 407 

Color  to  It,  J ust  to  Give 84 

Columbus,  A Boy’s  Essay  on 259 

Columbus  Provided  for  Chicago 64 

Combination,  A Vulgar . . . .368 

Company,  Looking  for 136 

Compulsory,  Didn’t  Want  It 207 

Condition,  No  Doubt  as  to  His 48 

Conductor,  A Very  Gentlemanly 225 

Confidence,  Told  in 146 

Congressional  Methods 373 

Congressman,  Their  Undistinguishable 235 

Conscience,  Too  Tender  A 224 

Consequence,  A 241 

Consequence,  Another 241 

Consequence,  Not  A 241 

Contentment,  Jerrold 218 

Contradictions 375 

Courts,  Three ^ 137 

Credit  Was  Good,  Her 385 

Critic,  A Young  Musical 208 

Crusades,  A Leg-end  of  the 338 

Cupid,  the  Book-Agent 299 

Cyclones,  Bill  Nye 105 

ID 

Damp  Sheets,  Jerrold 249 

Darkness  the  Time 241 

Difference,  A Marked 389 

Difference,  It  Made  a. 138,  348 


412 


THE  WORTHS 


Diner  out  at  Home,  The,  Jerrold 252 

Dirt  Cheap 56 

Disease,  A Xew 28 

Ditto,  Too,  She  Took  Some 224 

Dog,  A California 240 

Door-Spring,  That 330 

Drink,  That  Dreadful 75 

Drunkenness  by  Inoculation,  Curing 256 

Dry,  He  Was  Terribly 279 

Ducks,  The  Meddlesome  155 

Dudedom,  Overheard  in 100 

Dude’s  Courage,  A 63 

E 

Earth,  The,  Bill  Nye 50 

Echoes  of  the  Sale " 76 

Editor,  A Truthful 64 

Educated,  Too  Late  to  be &4 

Eggs  Easily  Colored 236 

Encore,  Refusing  an 62 

Enterprising  a Hotellist,  Too ; 63 

Escape,  A Xarrow 381,  384 

Escaping  from  an  Excursion 380 

Evil,  An  Hnmixed 62 

Everybody  Knew  Him 113 

Examination  of  Girls,  The,  L.  R.  Catlin 306 

“Excavating”  a Sentence 65 

Exchange,  An  Even 238 

Excitement  in  the  Churches 59 

Excursion,  Going  on  an 169 

Excuse,  A Partial 57 

Explaining  Equivocal  Utterances 393 

Extract  from  ‘‘American  Realism” 372 

Extract  from  the  Calf 242 

Extras,  Charging  for 86 

E 

Fact,  A Political 242 

Faithless  Sally  Brown,  Tam  Hood 167 

Fall,  A Remarkable 213 

Fame,  The  Fickleness  of 340 


WIT  AND  WITS, 


413 


Fanny, and  Frances.  Concerning 283 

Fashion,  A New 277 

Father’s  Letter,  A,  Bill  Nye 304 

Fellow,  A Low 294 

Fish,  Some  Dakota 63 

Fixing  It  Up 383 

Flashes 231 

Florence  Salmon  Fishing,  W.  J 296 

Flowers,  The  Conservatory 214 

Food,  Chemistry  of 391 

Force  of  Habit  at  the  Theater 386 

Fonr-in-Hand,  Fun  with  a. 269 

Four  of  Them 395 

Francisco  Pizarro’s  Career,  Bill  Nye 315 

Freddy,  It  Was  Only 84 

French  for  Celery 186 

Fun  in  the  Bellow  of  the  Blast 259 

Furniture,  Breaking 215 

a- 

Gallantry,  Unappreciated 393 

Gallant  Young  Man,  A 342 

Game,  The  National 95 

Gardner’s  Advice  to  a Traveler,  Bro 234 

Geese,  Tough  on  the 31 

Georgia,  Telling  Tales  in 49 

Germanic  Appeal,  A 236 

Getting  Rich  Faster 380 

Ghost,  A Frivolous 288 

Gingerbread,  Big  Demand  for 206 

Girl,  A Posted 232 

Girl,  A Shrewd 36 

Girl-Graduate,  The  Sweet 397 

Girl  of  the  Query,  A 29 

Girl,  The  Summer 378 

Girls  of  Cherryvale,  The 36 

Glad,  He  Was 214 

Gold’s  Power,  Jerrold 252 

Go  Out,  It  Could  Not 288 

Graduate,  The 2^ 


414 


TEE  WORLES 


“Grant’s  Whisky,”  Lincoln’s  Confab  with  a Committee  on.-. . . .269 

Grass,  He  Couldn’t  Go  the 24 

Great  Times  on  the  River 398 

Guard,  He  Was  on  His 350 

Guilty,  They  Found  Him 138 

KC 

Heading  Him  Off . .257 

Healthy  Chickens 379 

Heart,  The  Changes  of  the 216 

He  Couldn’t  Catch  Them  Stealing 261 

He  Couldn’t  Help  Doing  It 270 

He  Knew  Them  All 227 

Heroism,  Testing  His 215 

He  Was  Bold  and  Bad 133 

High  Bread 379 

Hired  Men,  Too  High-Toned ! . . . 30 

Hits  the  Mark ..  238 

Hope,  While  There’s  Life  There’s 86 

How  He’d  Dolt 190 

How  He  Missed  It 358 

How  Lincoln  Illustrated  Looking  out  for  Breakers 254 

How  She  Flattened  Him 325 

Hunting  an  Ichthyosaurus,  Bill  Nye 351 

I 

If 135 

Impressionist,  The 38 

Improvement,  A Marked 341 

Inconsistency,  Clinton  Scollard ..382 

Indian,  A Puzzled 233 

Indorsement,  A Good 101 

Inference,  A Probable 255 

Ingersoll  on  Laughter 

Inquisitive,  He  Was  Too 283 

Interrupted 268 

Introduced  Herself,  She 244 

Ire- land 243 

Irish  Debt,  An 146 

Isaac,  How  to  Spell 174 

Isaac’s  Taste  for  Poetry,  Mrs.  Partington 91 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


415 


J 

Jennie  Smith  and  the  Oily  Captain 234 

Jerroldiana 252 

Jerroldian  Jokings 249 

Jerrold  Jokelets 204 

Jerrold’s  Luggage 217 

Job,  He  Wanted  the 55 

Jokes,  Jerrold 216 

Josh  Billings’  Advice  to  a New  Choir-Singer 153 

•Josh  Billings’  Philosophy 191 

k: 

Kicking  Made  no  Difference .101 

Knew  Less  Anatomy  than  Theology 232 

IL. 

Labor  Troubles,  Worried  Over  the .270 

Language,  The  Tender 389 

Last  Vacation 310 

Laughable  Toilet  Ignoiance 374 

Law  and  Order 47 

Law,  Peculiarities  of  English 390 

Laws,  The  Clearest  of  All,  Jerrold 249 

Lawyer  Who  Practiced  by  Ear,  A 258 

Leaving  the  Farm 256 

Legal  Advice,  Sound 228 

Legal  Assistance 115 

Les  Incomprehensibles,  Victor  Hugo 199 

Lesson,  A Primary 272 

Let  Them  Go  in  Place  of  Ballet  Dancing 250 

“Life,”  Taken  from 113 

Limburger,  Ripe 43 

Lime  Business  was  Slack,  The 225 

Limekiln  Club,  Bro.  Gardner’s 160 

Lincoln  and  His  New  Hat. 341 

Lincoln  and  Judge  B—  Swapped  Horses,  How 217 

Lincoln  and  the  Little  Boy 339 

Lincoln  Illustrated  What  Might  be  Done  with  Jeff.  Davis,  How368 

JJncoln  in  Court 226 

Lincoln  in  the  Black  Hawk  War 210 


410 


THE  WORTHS 


LiiicuJn  Joking  Douglas 329 

Liuc^n  on  Criticism  and  Bull  Frogs " 281 

Lincoln  Squelching  an  “Obstructor” 229 

Lincoln  Won  a Case  from  His  Partner,  How 374 

Lincoln’s  Advice  to  a Prominent  Bachelor 219 

Lincoln's  Amusing  Illustrations,  One  of 322 

Lincoln’s  Common  Sense 260 

Lincoln's  Confab  with  a Committee  on  ‘‘Grant’s  Whisky” 269 

Lincoln’s  Drolh'ries,  One  of 279 

Lincoln’s  Last  Stories,  One  of 289 

Linci  Ill’s  Story  of  a Girl  in  New  Salem 207 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  a Poodle  Dog  L^sed  to  Wash  Windows 293 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  a Young  Lawyer 239 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  Daniel  Webster's  Greatness 251 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  Daniel  Webster’s  Soiled  Hands . , 356 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  Jack  Chase 252 

Lincoln’s  Stoiy  of  Sallie  Ward's  Practical  Philosophy 287 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  the  Judge  and  Drunken  Coachman 234 

Lincoln’s  Story  of  Thompson  Campbell 244 

Lincoln's  Story  of  Trying  the  “Greens”  on  Jake. .223 

Lincoln’s  Uncle,  A Story  by 217 

Lochinvar  Came  Out  of  the  West,  Why 65 

Looking  for  the  Mortar T ' 379 

Looking  out  for  Breakers ,254 

Lo’s  Last  Industrial  Refuge ’ 62 

Loss,  An  Extra  Heavy 242 

Lottie’s  Last  Chance 115 

Love,  Jerrold 216,  249 

Love’s  Misplay,  Young 58 

Lover,  A Cautious,  Jerrold 205 

Lover,  Pluck  of  a Baptist 37 

Lover’s  Aspiration,  A,  Jerrold 205 

Loving  Everybody 243 


ISA. 

Made  a Profit  Even  Then 

Made  Him  Sad  to  Think  of  It 

Mamie 

Man,  An  Innocent  

Man!  Oh,  for  a 

Mark  Twain’s  Amusing  Sequels  to  Several  Anecdotes- 


,228 

,2-57 

.376 

347 

.285 

,117 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


417 


Mark  Twain’s  Bad  Little  Boj’'  Who  Didn’t  Come  to  Grief 147 

Mark  Twain’s  Celebrated  Jumping  Frog  Story 139 

Mark  Twain’s  Diplomacy .* 24 

Mark  Twain  on  Beecher 69 

Mark  Twain  on  Blue  Jays :170 

Mark  Twain  on  the  Ant 157 

Mark  Twain’s  Eemarkable  Gold  Mines 165 

Mark  Twain’s  Visit  to  Niagara 178 

Mark  Twain’s  Watch 129 

Marry,  To  a Man  Who  Would 302 

Master,  The,  Burdette ! 327 

Match  Factory,  Good  for  a 233 

Match,  They  Didn’t 339 

“May  Queen”  Modernized,  The 43 

Mendelsdaughter 380 

Merit  Rewarded,  True,  Bill  Nye 78 

Metaphor,  A Mixed 65 

Methuselah,  Bill  Nye 332 

Minnehaha  and  Minneboohoo,  Lincoln 272 

Mistake,  He  Had  Made  No  253 

Mistaken  Allegation,  A 63 

Moment,  An  Opportune 393 

Money-Lender,  The,  Jerrold 204 

More  Light  and  Less  Noise 276 

Motto,  A,  Jerrold 252 

Mourning,  In 134 

Mourning,  'The  Time  for,  Jerrold 218 

Mouth  Smaller,  Making  the 283 

Music  in  Her  Soul,  She  Had 214 

Musical  Observations,  A.  Ward 91 

INT 

Name?  What’s  in  a 77 

Necessary  Precaution,  A 397 

Nerves,  Studying  the. . . T 206 

Never  Too  Old  to  Learn  115 

No  Mere  Passing  Whim 328 

No  Relief  in  Sight 396 

Notes  on  Some  Spring  Styles,  Bill  Nye 273 

Not  Room  for  so  Many .261 

No  Time 242 


418 


THE  WORLD'^S 


o 

“Obstructor,”  Squelching  an 229 

“Ode”  to  Him,  of  Course 379 

O.  Course  He  Ke{)t  One 271 

Office,  The  Dignity  of 190 

One  Escaped  Observation 251 

Osculation,  Eely  O'Malley 146 

Ought  to  Know 233 

Over  the  River 282 

Overwork,  Another  Victim  of 93 

:e> 

Paradise  Regained 60 

Paradox,  The  Urchin’s 63 

Parrot,  A Pious 206 

Partington’s  Early  Life,  Mrs 124 

Partington’s  Trip,  Mrs 152 

Party,  Mr.  Pepper's 219 

Parvenue,  Mother  and  Daughter 221 

Pass-word,  Getting  at  the 387 

Pay  Some  of  Them,  He  Ought  to 109 

PerFiapsXot 75 

Permanently  Enlarged,  Jerrold 249 

Phunnygrammes  206 

Picnics  Supplied 386 

Pictures,  She  Knew  His 211 

Place,  A Safe 378 

Playful,  He  Katuraily  Felt 138 

Play,  When  He  Wanted  to 55 

Plum,  The  Sweetest,  Jerrold 249 

Porcupine,  A Misguided 233 

Postmaster,  An  Unaccommodating 101 

Potash  vs.  Barley 379 

Preparing  to  Make  Trouble  for  Them 245 

Price  of  Raisins,  The 59 

Prisoner,  An  Accommodating 229 

Prize,  The  First 110 

Profanity,  The  Doctor’s 103 

Pjofessor,  A 219 

Professor  Dusting  Rugs,  The 221 

Puppy  was  Hungry,  The  77 


WIT  AND  WITS. 


419 


Query  for  a Sculptor,  A 206 

Query,  A.  G.  of  the  29 

Radiations 235 

Railroading,  Tired  of,  Opie  P.  Peid. 87 

Read;  Then  Sit  for  a Picture,  ilf.  Quad 85 

Reason,  A Good 321 

Reason  for  Walking  so  Far,  Good Ill 

Rebel  Tell,  The 62 

Reception,  A Pleasant 398 

Regardless  of  Expense <-r-. 59 

Relapse,  He  Had  a 295 

Relics,  Rare  and  Valuable 263 

Remedy,  A Questionable 295 

Remedy,  He  Might  Find  Some 390 

Remembrance,  “I?^ot”  for 29 

Reply,  A Neat 153 

Reputation  Upheld,  His 36 

Request,  The  Prisoner’s 338 

Revenge,  She  Had  Her 295 

Riddle 83 

Rightly  to  be  Knocked  Down. .380 

Rogue  Indeed,  A .218 

Romance,  A Thrilling 369 

Romancer,  A Child Ill 

Rome,  A Chicago  Man’s  Opinion  of 288 

Rope,  A Child’s  Definition  of  a 242 

Rule,  A Convenient 299 

Russian,  Floored  on 377 

S 

Sacrifice,  A Great 349 

Safeguard,  An  Effective 288 

Said,  What  They 127 

Sale,  Not  for 263 

Samuel  and  Lucinda 267 

Scientific  Note,  A 322 

Scintillations 62,  224 

Scoundrel,  A,  Jerrold 204 


420 


TEE  W0RLE8 


Sea,  By  the 284 

Seat,  She  Obtained  a 26 

Secret,  A Horse- car 298 

Secret,  Couldn’t  Keep  It 237 

Secrets 137 

Self-Defence,  In 57 

Seminoles’  Famous  Green  Corn  Dance,  The 380 

Shad  is  Bony,  Why  the 102 

She  Forgot  that  Dress  Coats  Were  Outre 392 

Shocked,  He  Was 136 

Shocking  in  It,  Xothing 55 

Shy  Edith  Surprised  Them 400 

Sign,  A Cute 7 112 

Sign  of  Rain,  A Sure 255 

Sister,  A Generous 76 

Slandered! 237 

Sociable 209 

Soil  Was  Very  Thin,  The 398 

“Sold”  Both  Ways 28 

Something  Appropriate 56 

“Sorrows  of  Werter”  Revived 90 

Sparing  His  Feelings 77 

Spoopendyke’s  Collar-Button,  Stanley  Huntley 187 

Spoopendyke’s  New  Bathing  Suit,  Stanley  Huntley  193 

Spring  Chicken 250 

Spying 126 

Squibs  212 

Statistics 82 

Strike,  A Desirable • 62 

Strike  of  Other  Days,  A,  Burdette 39 

Struck  Them  Both,  How  He 25 

Stuffing  a Frenchman 246 

Style  Only  1 Cent,  This 85 

Style,  She  Didn’t  Like  the 272 

Success  With  Small  Fruits,  Burdette 155 

Surprising  Her  Papa  298 

Sympathetic,  He  Was 356 

T 

Talked  Too  Much,  He 66 

Talking,  Didn’t  Feel  Like 213 


WIT  AND  WITS.  42i 

Tariff  Policy,  The  Desired 237 

Tariff  Question,  A Tilt  on  the 26 

Teeth,  He  Wanted  the 95 

Telegrapher,  A Bushed 66 

Temperance  Lecture,  A Telling 31 

Theodore  Thomas  Artistically  Considered 390 

They  Didn’t  Need  It 211 

Thing,  It  Was  Just  the 48 

Thompson  Campbell,  Lincoln’s  Story  of 244 

Traps  Set  by  Jokers 255 

Treason,  Jcrrold 218 

Trip,  Not  a Bad 116 

Trite 241 

Turtle’s  Lack  of  Hair,  The 66 

250,000  Passes  to  Richmond 350 

Tyrants,  Down  with  the * 248 

TJ 

Umpire  Probably  Officiated,  The 240 

Umpirical 250 

Uncle  Remus  Returns 311 

infortunate 254 

Unfortunate  Man,  An 324 

Upper  Tendom  Losing  Its  Sinews. 391 

Useful  at  Last 250 

■V 

Vacuum,  Found  a 65 

Virgin  Forest,  Definition  of  a. 64 

Vote,  A Somewhat  Cheap 232 

Vote,  Better  than  a 205 

% 

W 

Wales  Could,  Could  Stand  It  if 134 

Wanted  Another  Chance  to  be  Good 66 

Wanted  to  Make  It  a Sure  Thing 243 

Wants  of  a Moderate  Man,  The 382 

Watch,  Wanted  to  Keep  the 112 

Wealth,  Sudden 38 

Wedding,  A Colored 297 

Wedding  Journey,  On  the 112 


422 


THE  WORTH  8 

Welsh  Jawbreakers , , tss 

Where  Her  Papa  Comes  In 326 

Whiskey  CiJsk,  A Splendid 329 

Why  lie  Did  Not  Go  Into  the  Speculation 301 

Why  She  Ought  to  Wear  Glasses. 394 

Why  the  Audience  Smiled 323 

Witling  to  Turn  Her  Coat 340 

Wishes,  Jerrcld 252 

Wise,  Witty  and  Pungent  Sayings  of  Bench  and  Bar. 263 

Witness,  A Precise 145 

Witticisms,  Jerrold 218 

Woman,  A Generous 58 

Woman’s  Reason,  A 283 

Wooden-legged  Man’s  Joke,  A 45 

Wool,  Taking  Off  the  Duty  on 237 

AVork,  A Good  Day’s 366 

You  Can’t  Dodge  It,  Fred.  H.  Carruth 389 

Youth,  An  Enterprising 82 

Youth,  A Generous 232 


The  “ Hard-of-Hearing  ” Speechless  Children 
in  our  Schools  for  the  Deaf. 


Paper  Read  by  R.  S.  Rhodes,  of  Chi- 
cago, AT  THE  Fourteenth  Convention  of 
American  Teachers  of  the  Deaf,  at 
Flint,  Michigan. 


“In  what  manner  can  we  best  serve  the  interests  of 
those  pupils  in  our  institutions,  who  have  a good  degree 
of  hearing.^”  I find  tskis  question  asked  in  the  reports  of 
the  superintendent  of  one  of  our  large  institutions,  issued 
June  30,  1894.  I also  find  in  this  report  a statement 
that  of  “384  children  whose  hearing  was  accurately 
tested,  60  had  a record  of  hearing  varying  in  degrees  up 
to  ten  per  cent.;  35  a record  varying  between  ten  and 
twenty  per  cent. ; 47  between  twenty  and  thirty  per 
cent.;  18  between  thirty  and  forty  per  cent.;  7 between 
forty  and  fifty  per  cent.;  and  16  of  fifty  per  cent,  and 
over” — in  all,  183,  or  nearly  fifty  percent,  of  all  chil- 
dren tested,  are  not  totally  deaf,  but  are  simply  hard-of- 
hearing  people. 

In  1879,  I visited  many  schools  for  the  deaf  in  this 
country,  and  tested  the  hearing  of  many  deaf  children, 
and  in  1880,  I visited  many  institutions  and  schools  in 
Europe,  and  have  made  accurate  tests  of  the  hearing  of 
the  deaf  children  wherever  I have  been;  and  I find  that 


THE  AUDIPHONE. 


forty  per  cent,  of  the  children  in  the  in&ticutions  and 
schools  throughout  the  world  possess  ten  per  cent,  and 
over  of  hearing,  and  are  capable  of  being  educated 
to  speak  through  the  sense  of  hearing  with  mechanical 
aid.  This  being  the  case,  and  this  question  being  asked 
by  the  superintendents  of  several  of  our  institutions, 
showing  a willingness  on  the  part  of  the  superintendents 
of  these  institutions  to  utilize  this  hearing  and  teach 
aurally  to  speak,  well,  then,  may  this  convention  pause 
to  consider  this  question,  affecting  the  interests  of  half  of 
the  children  in  the  institutions  represented  by  you  gentle- 
men present.  And  let  me  say  that  it  not  only  affects 
the  interests  of  those  children  in  these  schools  at  the  - 
present  day,  but  will  affect  the  interests  of  those  in  all 
time  to  come,  not  only  in  this  country,  but  other 
countries  throughout  the  \vorld.  Most  of  you  have  up  to 
the  present  time  ignored  the  fact  that  these  children 
could  hear,  and  have  treated  them  as  totally  deaf  chil- 
dren, and  they  have  been  graduated  as  such,  and  in  most 
institutions  in  the  world  to-day  are  being  graduated  as 
such.  Well,  I say,  may  we  consider  “in  what  manner 
we  can  best  serve  the  interests  of  those  children  who 
have  a good  degree  of  hearing,”  and  well  may  this  con- 
vention give  much  of  its  time  to  this  important  question, 
and  let  us  answer  wisely.  God  has  bestowed  upon  half 
the  children  whose  welfare  is  in  your  charge  ten  per 
cent,  and  over  of  nature’s  own  means  of  learn- 
ing to  speak.  This  being  known,  shall  we  longer 
ignore  the  fact.?  We  see  adults  on  every  hand,  more 
deaf  than  many  of  the  children  in  your  schools,  using 


HEARING  THROUGH  THE  TEETH. 

mechanical  aids  to  hearing,  and  enjoying  the  use  of  their 
own  voices,  and  understanding  others  well.  What  they 
can  do  with  mechanical  aids,  you  can  teach  these  chil- 
dren, with  an  equal  degree  of  hearing,  to  do.  Forty  per 
cent,  of  the  children  in  your  schools  hear  better  than  I 
can.  My  degree  of  hearing  in  the  left  ear  is  about  seven 
per  cent.,  and  nothing  in  the  right,  and  I can  hear  with 
the  audiphone,  at  conversational  distances,  almost  per- 
fectly, and  can  hear  my  own  voice,  when  speaking 
against  it,  quite  perfectly.  You  will  allow  that  if  the 
deaf  can  hear  others  and  can  hear  themselves,  there  is  no 
reason  why  they  cannot  be  educated  aurally,  if  they  have 
mental  capacity.  No,  there  is  no  reason  why  they  cannot^ 
but  there  is  a reason,  and  a potent  reason,  why  they  are 
not,  and  that  reason  lies  with  you,  the  teachers  of  the 
deaf.  But  you  cannot  be  wholly  blamed  for  this,  be- 
cause I allow  that  even  with  this  instrument  which  I 
carry,  you,  with  perfect  hearing,  find  no  improvement. 
But  those  with  imperfect  hearing  will  find  great  improve- 
ment. You  hand  the  instrument  to  one  who  has  never 
enjoyed  the  benefit  of  hearing,  in  learning  articulation, 
and  you  find  he  answers  you  that  he  can  hear  but  little,  and 
you  use  his  judgment  and  say  that  he  cannot  hear  suffi- 
ciently with  it  to  learn  to  speak,  when  you  should  know 
that  they  who  have  never  learned  to  speak  know  nothing 
of  the  value  of  sound,  and  are  perfectly  ignorant  as  to 
how  well  they  should  hear  to  enable  them  to  learn.  You 
know  you  are  succeeding  in  some  degree  in  teaching  them 
to  speak  when  they  hear  nothing;  if,  then,  they  may  by 
any  means  acquire  simply  the  vowel  sounds  of  our  lan- 
guage, by  hearing  them,  what  a great  advantage  would 
this  be  to  them  in  learning  to  speak!  And  I assert  that 


tHE  AUDIPHONE. 


where  a person  enjoys  one  per  cent,  only  of  natural 
hearing,  this  instrument  will  improve  his  hearing  to  a 
degree  that  will  enable  him  to  acquire  a knowledge 
aurally  of  the  vowel  sounds,  and  thus  enable  you  to  teach 
him  to  speak.  Sixteen  years  ago  when  I visited  the  in« 
stitutions  in  this  country  and  Europe,  for  the  purpose  ol 
urging  that  the  hearing  be  appealed  to,  and  carried  with 
me  this  device,  and  selected  classes  that  could  hear,  and 
freely  presented  this  instrument  for  their  use,  every  child 
was  being  instructed  as  though  it  were  totally  deaf,  and 
in  some  instances  I was  told  that  a slight  degree  of  hear- 
ing rendered  a child  more  difficult  to  teach  by  “our" 
method.  That  may  be  very  true,  for  some  of  these  chil- 
dren possessed  twenty  or  thirty  or  even  fifty  per  cent, 
of  hearing,  and  I should  suppose  that  it  would  be  natural 
for  them  in  such  cases  to  be  at  first  inclined  to  listen, 
and  it  would  be  some  trouble  to  overcome  this  inclina- 
tion. As  for  me,  I believe  that  ten  per  cent,  of  nature’s 
means,  ten  per  cent,  of  natural  hearing  power,  is  worth 
more  in  learning  valuable  speech  than  one  hundred  per 
cent,  of  substituted  methods.  I could  teach  to  speak 
two  languages  to  a bright  student,  with  ten  per  cent,  of 
hearing,  before  you  could  teach  him  to  speak  one  with  all 
methods  ever  used,  without  the  hearing.  Yes,  ten  per 
cent,  of  a sense  that  God  has  endowed  us  with  is  too 
valuable  to  throw  away,  and  we  have  no  right  to  ignore 
even  one  per  cent.,  when  we  have  a device  which  will 
improve  it  and  make  it  valuable  to  us,  as  in  this  sense  of 
hearing  we  certainly  have.  I am  sure  the  audiphone  will 
improve  thirty  per  cent.,  and  bring  one  per  cent,  within 
the  scope  of  the  human  voice,  and  valuable  speech  may 
be  taught.  With  the  audiphone  one  may  speak  to 


HEARING  THROUGH  THE  TEETH. 

a dozen  or  two  dozen,  or  three  dozen,  at  one  time; 
and  the  sounds  that  reach  the  listener  with  the 
audiphone,  according  to  my  judgment,  are  far  more 
natural  than  those  reaching  the  listener  by  any  other 
instrument.  Music  itself  is  perfectly  enjoyed  with  the 
audiphone,  whereas,  there  is  no  other  instrument  that 
will  reveal  the  harmonies  of  music  in  their  perfection, 
and  therefore,  I say,  it  is  the  preferable  instrument  for 
teaching,  but  it  is  not  the  only  instrument. 

Each  child  carries  an  instrument  of  value,  which  I be- 
lieve has  never  before  been  spoken  of  or  used,  and  which 
I would  like  to  explain  to  this  convention.  You  may 
simply  allow  a deaf  child  to  close  his  teeth  firmly;  this 
brings  the  upper  jaw  in  tension,  and  when  his  teeth  are 
firmly  closed,  he  may  speak  and  hear  his  own  voice 
more  distinctly.  You  will  not  hear  him  so  well,  but  he 
will  hear  himself  better,  and  he  may  study  in  this 
manner,  with  his  teeth  firmly  pressed  together,  until  he 
can  acquire  the  knowledge  of  every  sound  in  the 
English  language,  and  one  must  be  exceedingly  deaf — I 
would  say  totally  deaf — if  he  cannot  hear  himself  speak 
with  his  teeth  firmly  closed  together.  Now,  you  gentle- 
men of  perfect  hearing  may  try  this;  you  will  find  it 
gives  you  no  results,  but  do  not  decide  at  once  that  what 
I have  said  is  not  true.  Let  those  who  are  deaf  try  it, 
and  they  will  find  that  they  can  hear.  Thus,  the  deaf 
have  some  advantages;  it  requires  a deaf  person  to  hear 
through  his  teeth.  This  may  be  one  reason  why  some 
teachers  decide  that  the  audiphone  is  not  of  value  to  the 
^eaf,  simply  because  they  of  perfect  hearing  cannot  hear 
v/ith  it.  With  the  double  audiphone  you  speak  between 
I ho  discs,  and  you  get  back  to  yourself  the  double  power 


THE  AUDIPHONE. 

of  your  voice — that  is,  the  deaf  will  get  it  back.  One 
with  perfect  hearing  will  see  no  results,  because  the 
same  result  will  be  attained  through  the  natural  organ 
first,  but  one  with  defective  hearing  will  receive  the 
results.  I would  place  the  audiphone  in  the  hands  of 
each  child  with  any  degree  of  hearing  remaining,  and 
have  him  study  his  own  voice  at  his  seat,  while  speaking 
against  it.  He  would  have  to  study  aloud,  as  it  is  his 
voice  we  wish  to  cultivate.  It  is  more  important  that 
the  child  should  hear  himself  speak  than  that  it  should 
hear  others,  and  when  the  child  comes  to  recite,  its 
articulation  of  mispronounced  words  may  be  corrected. 
Very  slow  progress  would  be  made  if  it  was  required  to 
speak  aloud  only  at  recitations,  and  very  hard  work  on 
the  part  of  the  teacher  could  be  avoided  by  having  the 
child  study  the  sounds  it  produced  at  its  seat,  and  while 
studying  its  lesson.  I would  advise  that  where  many 
are  being  taught,  the  class  should  pass  into  a quiet  recita- 
tion-roomi.  It  has  been  my  experience  in  institutions  I 
have  visited  that  I have  been  able  to  teach  classes  of  a 
dozen  children  to  speak  plainly  thirty  to  one  hundred 
words  in  two  or  three  days,  whether  they  have  received 
previous  instruction  in  articulation  or  not,  and  at  this  rate 
it  would  require  but  a very  short  time  to  give  them  a 
vocabulary  that  would  be  of  practical  value  to  them.  I 
have,  however,  selected  those  possessing  the  most  hear- 
ing, and  that  would  be  faster  than  the  average  could  be 
taught;  but  all  intelligent  children,  with  five  per  cent,  of 
hearing  can  be  taught  as  valuable  speech  as  I possess. 
My  articulation  may  be  defective,  but  I think  you  have 
been  able  to  understand  what  I have  said,  and,  poor  as 
it  is,  1 would  not  part  with  it  for  all  the  possessions  any 


HEARING  THROUGH  THE  TEETH. 


one  of  you  may  have.  And  here,  gentlemen,  you  arc 
depriving  half  of  the  children  in  the  institutions  that  you 
teach  of  an  articulation  that  might  be  as  valuable  to 
them  as  mine  is  to  me,  or  as  yours  is  to  you. 

I have  known  institutions  where  the  teachers  them- 
selves have  used  this  audiphone,  and  have  taught  chil- 
dren who  could  hear  naturally  better  than  themselves, 
and  did  not  allow  them  to  use  it.  By  what  line  of  rea- 
soning they  can  justify  this  I do  not  know;  or  why  they 
should  deprive  the  innocent  child  of  the  blessings  they 
appropriate  to  themselves.  And  these  poor  children, 
ignorant  of  the  value  of  the  slight  degree  of  hearing  God 
has  conferred  upon  them,  are  sent  to  the  schools  for  the 
deaf  for  instruction,  and  thousands  are  being  sent  forth 
from  these  institutions  ignorant  still  of  the  great  value 
the  hearing  they  have  would  have  been  to  them  had  it 
been  utilized  in  teaching  them  to  speak.  Teachers,  will 
you  continue  to  do  this.?  Will  you  continue  to  graduate 
this  large  class  of  hard-of-hearing  children  as  children 
perfectly  deaf.?  If  you  do,  you  commit  a grievous  offense 
and  an  offense  which  will  not  be  forgotten  or  forgiven. 
You  will  deprive  fifty  per  cent,  of  the  afflicted  children 
given  to  your  care  of  valuable  speech  and  an  education 
to  articulate  sounds.  You  deprive  them  ot  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God’s  most  valuable  gifts,  speech  and  hearing. 
You  in  a great  measure  deprive  them  of  the  means  of. 
making  a livelihood.  The  hard-of-hearing,  speaking 
person  will  succeed  well  in  most  callings.  The  responsi- 
bility for  the  present  rests  with  you;  in  the  future  this 
will  all  be  done.  Are  you  prepared  to  say,  “ We  will 
not  do  it;  we  will  leave  it  to  the  future;  we  will  continue 
in  our  old  methods,”  or  will  you  rise  equal  to  the  occa- 


THE  AUDIPHONE. 


f.ion  and  deserve  the  blessings  of  future  generations?  As 
lor  me,  I would  rather  be  the  inventor  of  this  little  device 
I hold  in  my  hands,  and  the  author  of  these  few  words  I 
have  addressed  to  you,  knowing  them  to  be  true,  and 
leel  the  satisfaction  I feel  in  having  devoted  the  past  six- 
teen years  of  my  life  to  this  cause,  than  to  be  the  in- 
ventor of  any  device  that  merely  serves  commercial  pur- 
poses. Commerce  may  be  benefited  in  a thousand  ways, 
whereas  an  affliction  may  be  alleviated  in  but  few. 


A Vote  of  Thanks. 


On  motion  it  was 

Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  this  convention  are  due 
*o  Mr.  R.  S.  Rhodes  for  his  valuable  paper.  ^ 


FOR  THE  DEAF 


THE  AUDIPHONE 


An  Instrument  tbat  Hnables  Deaf  Persons  to  Hear  Or- 
dinary Conversation  Readily  tlirous:li  tbe  Hedium 
of  tlie  Xeetti,  and  Many  of  those  Born  Deaf  and 
Dumb  to  Hear  and  L,earn  to  Speak. 

INVENTED  BY  RICKARD  S.  RHODES,  CHICAGO. 

Medal  Awarded  at  tlie  World’s  Columbian  Expo- 
sition, CMcago, 

The  Audiphone  is  a new  instrument  made  of  a peculiar  composi- 
tion, posessing  the  property  of  gathering  the  faintest  sounds  (some- 
what similar  to  a telephone  diaphragm),  and  conveying  them  to  the 
ftuditory  nerve,  through  the  medium  of  the  teeth.  The  external  ear 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  in  hearing  with  this  wo7iderful  instru- 
ment. 

Thousands  are  in  use  by  those  who  would  not  do  without  them  for 
any  consideration.  It  has  enabled  doctors  and  law’yers  to  resume 
practice,  teachers  to  resume  teaching,  mothers  to  hear  the  voices  of 
their  children,  thousands  to  hear  their  minister,  attend  concerts  and 
theatres,  and  engage  in  general  conversation.  Music  is  heard  per- 
fectly with  it  when  without  it  not  a note  could  be  distinguished.  It  is 
convenient  to  carry  and  to  use.  Ordinary  conversation  can  be  heard 
with  ease.  In  most  cases  deafness  is  not  detected. 

Full  instructions  will  be  sent  with  each  instrument.  The  Audi- 
phone is  patented  throughout  the  civilized  world. 

: : : : 


Conversational,  small  size,  - - • $3  oo 

Conversational,  medium  size,  - - - 3 oo 

Concert  size,  - - - - - 5 oo 

Trial  instruments,  good  and  serviceable,  - - - i 50 


The  Audiphone  will  be  sent  to  any  address,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

RHODES  & M°SLUBE  PyiLISHING  GO., 

for  *World., 

02I3:C-A.OO,  H-iX-. 


PUBLISHED  BY 

RHODES  & McCLURE  PUBLISHING  CO., 

■'  ' Chicago. 


All  handsomely  bound  in  the  best  English  and  American  cloths,  with  full  Silver- 
embossed  side  and  back  stamp;  uniform  in  style  of  binding.  Together  making 
a handsome  library,  or,  separately,  making  handsome  center-table  volumes. 

PRICE,  $1.00  EACH.  SENT  POST-PAID. 


ABRAHAM  LINCOLN’S  STORIES  AND  SPEECHES;  in  cne 
volume,  complete.  New  (1897)  edition,  handsomely  illustrated; 
containing  the  many  witty,  pointed  and  unequaled  stories  as  told 
by  Mr.  Lincoln,  including  Early  life  stories.  Professional  life 
stories.  White  House  and  War  stories;  also  presenting  the  full 
text  of  the  popular  Speeches  of  Mr.  Lincoln  on  the  great  ques- 
tions of  the  age,  including  his  “First  Political  Speech,’’  “Rail- 
Splitting  Speech,’’  “ Great  Debate  with  Douglas,’’  and  his  Won- 
derful Speech  at  Gettysburg,  etc.,  etc.;  and  including  his  two 
great  Inaugurals,  with  many  grand  illustrations.  An  instructive 
and  valuable  book;  477  pages. 

MOODY’S  ANECDOTES;  210  peges,  exclusive  of 
engravings.  Containing  several  hundred  interesting 
stories,  told  by  the  great  evangelist,  D.  L.  Moody, 
in  h.s  wonderful  work  in  Europe  and  America 
Hundreds  of  thousands  of  copies  have  been  sold. 
Illustrated  with  excellent  eng  avings  of  Messrs. 
Moody,  Sankey,  Whittle  and  Bliss,  and  thircy-two 
full-page  engravings  from  Gustave  Dore,  making 
an  artistic  and  handsome  volume.  “ A book  of  an- 
ecdotes which  have  thrilled  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands.”— Pittsburg  Banner. 

MOODY’S  GOSPEL  SERMONS.  As  delivered  by  the  great  Evangel- 
ist, Dwight  Lyman  Moody,  in  his  revival  work  in  Gre  t Britain 
and  America.  Together  with  a biography  of  Mr.  Moody  and  his 
co-laborer,  Ira  David  Sankey.  Including,  also,  a short  history  of  the 
Great  Revival.  Each  sermon  is  illustrated  with  a handsome,  full-page 
engraving  from  Gustave  Dore.  The  book  also  contains  an  engraving  of 
D.  L.  Moody,  Ira  D.  Sankey,  Mr.  Moody  Preaching  in  the  Royal  Opera 
House,  Haymarket,  London,  Chicago  Tabernacle  (erected  for  Mr. 
Moody’s  services)  and  “I  Am  the  Way.”  A handsome  and  attractive  vol- 
ume of  443  p ges. 

OODY'S  LATEST  SERMONS.  As  delivered  by  the  great  Evangel- 
ist, Dwight  Lyman  Moody.  Handsomely  illustrated  with  twenty- 
four  full-page  engravings  from  Gustave  Dore.  335  pages. 

MOODY’S  CHILD  Sd'ORIES.  As  related  by  Dwight  Lyman  Moody 
in  his  revival  work.  Handsomely  illustrated  with  sixteen  full-page 
engravings  from  Gustave  Dore  and  loG  illustrations  from  J.  Stuart 
Littlejohn.  A book  adapted  to  children,  but  interesting  to  adults  A 
handsome  volume.  Should  be  in  svery  family.  237  pages. 


Standard  Publications,  $1  each,  bound  in  Cloth. 

SAM  JONES’  GOSPEL  SERMONS;  346  pages, 
exclusive  of  engravings.  Sam  Jones  is  pronounced 
“one  of  the  most  sensational  preachers  in  the  world, 
and  yet  among  the  most  effective.”  His  sermons  are 
characterized  by  clearness,  point  and  great  common 
sense,  including  “hits”  that  ring  like  gens.  Printed 
in  large  type,  and  illustrated  with  engrav'ings  of  Sam 
Jones  and  Sam  Small,  and  with  nineteen  full-page 
engravings  from  Gustave  Dore. 

SaM  JONES’  LATEST  SERMONS.  The  favor  with  which  Sam 
Jones’  Gospel  Sermons  has  been  received  by  the  public  has  induced 
us  to  issue  this  book  of  his  Latest  Sermons.  Each  fermon  is  illustrated 
with  a full-prge  illustration  from  Gustave  Lore’s  Bible  Gallery.  The 
book  is  f ound  uniformly  with  his  Gospel  Sermons,  and  contains,  besides 
illustrations,  reading  matt.r  of  350  pages 

SAM  JONES’  ANECDOTES;  300  pages.  An  exceedingly  interesting 
and  entertaining  volume,  containing  the  many  telling  and  effective 
stories  told  by  Mr.  Jones  in  his  sermons.  They  strike  in  all  directions 
and  always  impart  good  moral  lessons  that  can  not  be  misunderstood. 
Adapted  fer  the  young  and  old.  A book  which  everybody  can  enjoy. 

MISTAKES  OF  INGERSOLL;  an  I his  Answers 
complete;  n.  wly  revised  popular  (1897)  edition; 
illustrated,  482  pages.  Containing  the  full 
replies  of  Prof.  Swing,  Judge  Black,  J.  Munro 
Gibson,  D.  D.,  Chaplain 0 McCabe,  Bishop 
Cheney,  Dr.  Thomas,  Dr.  Maclauglan,  Dr. 
Goodw.n  and  other  eminent  scholars  to  Inger. 
soil’s  Lectures  on  the  “Mistakes  of  Moses, ’- 
“Skulls,”  “What  Shall  We  Do  to  be  Saved?”  and  “ Thomas  Paine.” 
to  which  are  appended  in  full  these  Ingersoll  lectures  and  his  replies  A’ 
fair  pre  entation  of  the  full  discussion. 

Great  speeches  of  col.  R.  G.  ingersoll;  complete; 

newly  revised  (1897)  edition;  409  pages.  Containing  the  many 
eloquent,  timely,  practical  speeches  of  this  most  gifted  o.ator  and  states- 
man, including  his  recent  matchless  “ Eulogy  on  A1  raham  Lincoln,” 
“Speech  on  the  Declaration  of  Independence,”  “To  the  Farmers  on 
Farming,”  Funeral  Oration  at  his  Brother’s  Grave,  etc.,  etc.  Fully 
and  handsomely  illustrated. 

WIT,  WISDOM  AND  ELOQUENCE  OF  COL.  R.  G.  INGERSOLL; 

newly  revised  popular  (1897)  edition,  illustrated;  336  pages.  Con- 
taining the  remarkable  Witticisms,  terse,  pungent  and  sarcastic  sayings, 
and  eloquent  extracts  on  popular  themes,  from  Ingersoll’s  Speeches;  a 
very  entertaining  volume. 

The  FIRST  MORTGAGE;  310  pages.  A truthful,  instructive,  pleas- 
ing and  poetical  presentation  of  Biblical  stories,  history  and  gospel 
truth;  fully  and  handsomely  illustrated  from  the  world-renowned  artist, 
Gustave  Dore,  byE.  U.  Cook,  the  whole  forming  an  exceedingly  inter- 
esting and  entertaining  poetical  Bible.  One  of  the  handsomest  voIuibm 
ever  issued  in  Chicago. 


Standard  l^iiblications,  $1  each,  bound  in  Cloth. 


EN  YEARS  A COW  BOY.  A full  and  vivid  de- 
scription of  frontier  life,  including  I'omance,  advent- 
ure and  all  the  varied  experiences  incident  to  a life 
(.n  the  plains  as  cow  boy,  stock  owner,  rancher,  etc., 
together  with  articles  on  catile  and  sheep  raising, 
how  to  make  money,  description  of  the  plains,  etc., 
etc.  Illustrated  with  loo  full-page  engravings,  and 
contains  reading  matter  471  pages. 

WILD  LIFE  IN  THE  FAR  WEST.  By  C.  H.  Simpson,  a resident 
detective,  living  in  this  country.  Giving  a full  and  graphic  account 
of  his  thrilling  adventures  among  the  Indians  and  outlaws  of  Mon- 
tana— including  hunting,  hair-breadth  escapes,  captivity,  punishment  and 
difficulties  of  all  kinds  met  with  in  ihis  wild  and  lawless  country.  Illus- 
trated by  30  full  page  engravings,  by  G.  S.  Littlejohn,  and  contains  read- 
ing matter  264  pages. 

A YANKEE’S  ADVENTURES  IN  SOUTH  AFRICA.  (In  the  dia- 
mond country.)  ByC.  H.  Simpson.  Giving  the  varied  experiences, 
adventu  es,  dangers  and  narrow  escapes  of  a Yankee  seeking  his 
fortune  in  this  wild  country,  which  by  undaunted  courage,  perseverance, 
suffering,  fighting  and  adventures  of  various  sorts  is  requited  at  last  by 
.the  ownership  of  the  largest  diamond  taken  out  of  the  Kimberly  mines 
up  to  that  time,  and  with  the  hea  t and  hand  of  the  fairest  daughter  of  a 
diamond  kin^c  Containing  30  full-page  illustrations  by  H.  DeLay  and 
reading  matter  220  pages. 


WIT.  - Contains  sketches  from  Mark  Twain,  witticisms 
from  F.  H.  Carruth,  Donglas  Jerrold,  M.  Quad,  Op  e 
Reid,  Mrs.  Partington,  Eli  Perkins,  O’Malley,  Bill 
N;'e,  Artemus  Ward,  Abe  Lincoln,  Burdette,  Daniel 
Webster,  Victor  Hugo,  Brother  Gardner,  Clinton 
Scollard,  Tom  Hood,  L.  R.  Catlin,  Josh.  Billings, 
Chauncey  Depew  and  all  humorous  writers  of  mod- 
ern times.  Illustrated  with  75  full  p^ge  engravings, 
1 y H.  DeLay,  and  contains  reading  matter  407  pages. 


BENONI  and  SERAPTA.  A Story  of  the  Time  of  the  Great  Con- 
stantine, Founder  of  the  Christian  Faith.  By  Douglas  Vernon.  A 
religious  novel  showing  a Parsee’s  cons'ancy  and  faith  through 
many  persecutions,  trials  and  difficulties,  placed  in  his  way  by  priests 
nobles  and  queens  of  his  time  and  his  final  t.iumph  over  all  obstacles. 
Being  an  interesting  novel,  iut  nded  to  show  the  state  of  the  religious 
feelings  and  unscrupulous  intrigues  of  those  professing  religion  at  the 
time  of  the  foundat  on  of  the  Christian  faith.  Illustrated  with  33  full- 
page  en^avings.  by  H DeLay  and  contains  reading  matter  389  pages 


standard  Publications,  $1  each,  bound  in  Cloth. 


Evils  of  the  cities;  By  T.  DeWitt  Talmage,  D.  D.;  530 pages. 

The  author,  in  company  with  the  proper  detectives,  visited  many  of 
the  most  vile  and  wicked  places  in  New  York  City  and  Brooklyn,  osten- 
sibly looking  for  a thief,  but  in  reality  taking  notes  for  a feries  of 
d'scourses  published  in  this  volume,  which  contains  a full  and  graphic 
defC  option  cf  what  he  saw  and  the  lessens  drawn  therefrom.  The  Doctor 
has  abo  exte  ded  his  observations  to  the  ‘‘Summer  Resorts,”  “Watering 
Places,”  Rj  ces,  etc.,  etc.,  all  of  which  are  popularized  from  his  standpoint 
in  this  volume.  Handsomely  illustrated  and  decidedly  interesting. 

ALMAGE  IN  THE  HOLY  LAND;  322  pages.  The 
Palestine  Serm.cns  of  T.  DeWitt  Talmage,  delivered  during 
his  tour  of  th  ■ Holy  Land.  Including  graphic  descriptions 
of  Sacred  Places,  Vivid  Delineations  of  Gospel  Truths, 
nteresting  local  reminiscences,  etc.,  etc.,  by  his  visit  to  the 
many  places  made  sacred  by  the  personal  presence  of  Jesus 
and  the  great  pens  cf  Biblical  characters  and  writers. 
Copiously  illustrated. 

IN:  A series  of  popular  discourses  delivered  by  T.  DeWitt 
Talmage,  D.  D.,  and  illustrated  with  136  engravings  by 
H.  De  Lay;  411  pages. 

McN KILL’S  POPULAR  SERMONS:  373  pages.  Delivered  in  Lon- 
con  and  America  by  the  Rev.  John  McNeill,  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  p(  pular  of  living  divines,  and  known  on  both  continents  as  “The 
Scotch  Spurgeon  ” of  Europe,  of  whom  D.  L.  Moody  has  said;  “ He  is 
the  greatest  preacher  in  the  world.”  A most  clear,  vivid,  earnest  and 
life-like  presentation  of  Gospel  Truth;  sincerely  and  decidedly  spiritual. 
A most  edifying,  instructive  and  entertaining  volume  for  young  and  old. 


EDISCN  AND  HIS  INVENTIONS;  278  pages.  Containing 
full  illustrated  explanations  of  the  new  and  wonderful  Pho- 
nograph, Telephone,  Electric  Light,  and  all  his  principal 
inventions,  in  Edison's  own  language,  generally,  including 
many  incidents,  anecdotes  and  interesting  particulars  connect- 
ed with  the  earlier  and  later  life  of  the  world-renowned 
inventor,  tegether  with  a full  Electrical  Dictionary,  explain- 
ing all  of  the  new’  electrical  terms;  making  a very  entertain- 
ing and  valuable  book  of  the  life  and  works  of  Edison. 
Profusely  illustrated. 


GEMS  OF  TRUTH  AND  BEAUTY.  A choice  selection 
of  wise,  eloquent  extracts  from  Talmage,  Beecher,  Mcody 
Spurgeon,  Guthrie  and  Parker,  forming  a volume  that 
keenly  interests.  .A  good  gift  and  center  table  book- 
300  pages.  Illustrated. 


